


Scenes From Another Life

by theskipper



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Slow Build, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-02-03 14:16:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1747586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskipper/pseuds/theskipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another way it could have gone.</p>
<p>Please note this WIP will not be finished.  The last chapter contains the final scene that was written as well as an outline of the plot to close out the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An AU set post-fire. I fudged and hand waved some ages and timelines.

Peter dodged around the other after work grocery shoppers as he made his way to the aisle with the baking supplies. Dead eyed office jockeys mixed with moms trying to do it all and their annoying, hyper kids hanging off shopping carts were keeping him from getting what he needed and getting out of there, which only added to his bad mood.  Cora had texted him as he was leaving the job site reminding him she needed to bring a treat to school the next day.  He’d swung by the bakery area but the pre-made cupcakes were too far out of his price range, so homemade it was.

Peter sidestepped an old retired couple.  “Shouldn’t be shopping at 5:30,” he muttered to himself as he gave them a disgusted look.

He stopped in front of the box mixes and scanned the different choices, looking for one that would make the most cupcakes for the lowest price.  With the economic downturn, work had been a little harder to come by for a college dropout with two and a half kids at home.  He spied some chocolate cake mix on sale and picked up a box to read the ingredients.  They had eggs and oil at home, so that wouldn’t be a problem, but he still needed to do some sort of frosting.  He eyed the different canisters available and grabbed a plain vanilla one.

“That one’s gross.”

Peter turned, a little rattled, to see who had gotten the drop on him and found a girl, probably about Cora’s age, dark hair in a sloppy braid.

“Excuse me?”

The girl wrinkled her nose in distaste.  “That frosting tastes icky.  You shouldn’t get it.”

Peter rolled his eyes.  “Well, little girl, since you won’t be eating these cupcakes, I don’t think you need to worry your pretty little head about it.”  He walked towards the baking accessories looking for the paper cupcake holder things Derek had texted to remind him to get.

“You should get this kind.”  The pest held up a name brand canister of frosting with sprinkles or candy pieces or something included.  “It’s the best kind.”

“No,” Peter said, his limited patience rapidly dwindling.  He scanned the shelves looking for the paper cupcake things.

“These are pretty,” the pest was back and pointing to a packet of liners with printed balloons and streamers on them.  “Are you going to get sprinkles too?”

Peter heaved a sigh.  “Look kid.  Hasn’t anyone ever told you that you shouldn’t talk to strangers?”

“Duh.”  She even dared to add an eye roll for effect.  “Mom and daddy and grandpa and Aunt Kate.  But you’re not a stranger, you’re Cora’s brother.”

“Well then, where are your parents, or whoever you’re here with?”

“Daddy’s over there,” she said and pointed to the end of the aisle.  Peter could see a tall man with his back to them looking at the various packages of sandwich meat in the cooler section.  Peter took a minute to admire the long legs tucked into boots and the flex of muscles under the thin t-shirt as the man reached forward.

Peter tore his gaze from daddy long legs after several moments and looked back at the pest.  “I think you should go back to your dad now.”

The girl held out the canister of frosting she still had clutched in her arms.  Peter stared at it but made no effort to take it from the kid.  “Friends don’t let friends make gross cupcakes,” she said solemnly.

“We’re not friends,” Peter pointed out.

The pest looked up at him in a way that Peter knew meant her mind was working.  Finally she drew herself up straight and held out her hand.  “I’m Allison, it’s nice to meet you.”

Peter looked at her outstretched hand in confusion.  Did she expect him to shake it?

“You’re supposed to shake it and tell me your name.”

“Who says?” Peter challenged her, but the pest stood her ground.

“Everyone,” she said in an obvious tone that conveyed he was dumb for not knowing this.  “It’s polite,” she added.

“Who says I’m polite?” Peter responded with a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.  He could see the frustration building in little Allison’s face.  She narrowed her eyes at him but before she could say anything else daddy long legs turned and saw the pest halfway down the aisle talking to a strange man.

Peter watched as the guy hurried over.  “Allison, is everything alright?”  Okay, that’s not fair, Peter thought to himself.  Not only did daddy long legs have amazing blue eyes that were coolly assessing Peter, but his voice was wonderfully deep.  Maybe in another life, he mused.  As daddy long legs got closer, however, Peter felt a niggle of wariness overtaking the initial attraction the guy had stirred in him.

“Daddy, this is Cora’s brother.  I was helping him pick out frosting for cupcakes.”

“Really?”  The guy’s eyes picked Peter apart leaving him feeling naked and not in a good way.  “Do you have a name Cora’s brother?”

Peter felt the flutter of the wolf in his blood as fear skirted up and down his spine.  Daddy long legs may have been hot but he was dangerous as hell.  The stench of wolfsbane, gun oil, and hunter was overbearing now that the other man was just a few feet away.  It was clogging up his senses and quickly becoming the only thing he could smell.

Peter fought back at the razor’s edge of panic clawing at his throat.  His wolf was torn.  On one hand, it wanted to snarl and growl and bare its teeth at the hunter while on the other, it wanted to run as fast as it could back home to pull the kids in close and protect them.

Judging by the triumphant look in the hunter’s eyes he knew exactly what effect he was having on Peter and it galled Peter that this guy thought he could corner him and get the best of him.  Peter stamped down on the fear boiling in his blood and focused the way Talia had always encouraged him.  He saw the hunter’s eyes narrow and Peter knew the scales were tipping.  The hunter reached down for his daughter, but he was no match for Peter’s speed.  Peter grasped the girl by the hand and pulled her to his side.

“Tell me again, Allison, which are the best frostings?” Peter smiled at the pest by his side.  Allison, happily immune to the undercurrents, pulled him closer to the frosting selection and started babbling about flavors and colors.  Peter didn’t even pretend to listen, he simply smirked at the hunter over his shoulder delighting in the venomous rage the other man directed his way.

“They all sound so delicious, but I’m afraid I’m only able to afford this kind.” Peter gestured to the canister he held in his hand.

“Oh we have a coupon for a buy one get one free of the good kind,” Allison exclaimed.  “Daddy, can we give Cora’s brother our coupon so he can buy the good frosting?”

The hunter’s jaw was tight, a muscle in his cheek jumping as he clenched his teeth.  “Allison – “ he started but cut off as Peter removed his hand from Allison’s, pausing a second behind her neck before resting it gently on her shoulder.  “Fine,” he said and started flipping through his coupon holder.  He located the coupon and held it out towards Peter.

Peter walked forward, carefully guiding Allison with him.  He removed his hand from her shoulder and grasped the coupon.

“Allison. Can you please pick up the frosting you left in the aisle?  Then we need to get moving,” her father said.  Allison nodded and moved away to do as she was told.

The hunter grabbed ahold of Peter’s forearm and pulled him in close.  “If you ever come near my daughter again, I will string you up from the nearest tree, cut you open with a silver blade, and watch you bleed out,” he whispered harshly.

Peter looked down at the hunter’s hand digging into his forearm.  If he was human, he had no doubt there would be marks left behind.  He looked back up at the hunter and tilted his head to the side letting his eyes flash blue until the hunter removed his hand.

“Stay away from my family and I stay away from yours,” Peter growled.  The wolf was roused and he could feel the call of it simmering just under his skin.  Peter stepped back and moved out of the way for the hunter to collect his daughter and pass.  He waited until they were almost at the end of the aisle before calling out, “I never caught your name, Daddy.” 

The hunter stopped and half turned.  “It’s Chris.  Chris Argent,” he said over his shoulder. 

“Hello Christopher.  And Allison,” Peter added as she stopped next to her father and sent him a pretty smile and wave.  “I’m Peter.”  Peter smirked to cover the pit of anxiety in his stomach.  “Peter Hale.”

Peter’s smirk grew at the way Chris Argent’s pulse spiked at his name. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a brief description of a panic attack.

Peter pulled into the gas station and ran inside to pre-pay for the pump.  The cool gas station air was a nice change from the heat outside so he walked up and down a couple of the aisles trying to cool off.  He stared longingly at the coolers full of cold drinks but resisted the urge to buy anything, even if he did stand in the open doorway of one pretending to look for something until the cashier yelled at him.  He’d be home soon enough, and, if he was lucky, Derek would have remembered to refill the ice trays this afternoon.  He paid for his gas, giving the clerk a playful wink as she berated him for letting all the cold air out of the freezer.

Stepping back outside was like walking into a heater.  His mind shied away from calling it an inferno like he’d heard some of the guys bitching about at the job site today.  He leaned against the side of the car, tilted his head back and closed his eyes while waiting for the gas pump to shut off.  Back when Talia was teaching him how to drive, gas had been a dollar a gallon, maybe even less, he mused.

Like usual, thoughts of Talia brought the constant, now-familiar ache in his chest to the forefront.  The ache hadn’t really lessened, even six months later, but when he wasn’t actively thinking of the family he’d lost, the feeling seemed to drop down to a dull throb hovering in the background.  Something that was there but still manageable. 

This time though, he felt the ache in his chest move up his body to physically lodge in his throat.  Fighting the lightheadedness that these attacks always made him feel, Peter took deep breaths, in through his nose and out through his mouth, in an attempt to steady himself while the wave of grief rolled over him. 

Peter’s mind wandered from Talia teaching him to drive to showing him how to do laundry after he’d shrunk her favorite sweater and dyed all of Laura’s khakis blue.  He recalled nights spent on the back porch at the Hale house, Talia wrapped in her favorite sweater, laughing and hugging a squirming Cora who just wanted to run free and opening her arms to a tired Derek who wanted nothing more than to sleep in the comfort of his mother’s arms. 

The pump clicked off and snapped him out of his reverie, grounding him back in the present.  Peter exhaled one last time before he straightened and opened his eyes only to meet the blue gaze of Chris Argent who was standing in front of a black truck on the other side of the fuel pump.  Shock and fear coursed through his system in equal measure.  Peter couldn’t believe he let himself get so distracted in public that he didn’t notice a hunter getting close to him.  Stupid, reckless asshole, he chastised himself.  By the look of satisfaction on Chris’s face, he was quite pleased with himself and his ability to get the drop on Peter.

Peter gave in to his fight or flight response and felt his teeth elongate.  He curled his lips back and snarled a warning at Chris who suddenly smelled a lot less satisfied and a lot more wary.  Peter noted Chris’s hand moved slowly away from the gas nozzle and towards the gun tucked into the holster at his side.

Their gazes deadlocked on one another.  Neither wanted to be the first to break the standoff.  Around them the bugs hovered near the buzzing fluorescent lights and a car with a noisy belt screeched its way down the road.  Peter’s nostrils were filled the scent of gas, warm asphalt that had been baking all day in the California sun, and hunter.  Now that he was paying attention, Peter couldn’t miss that familiar mix of wolfsbane, gun oil and danger that he was starting to associate with the other man.  His focus on Chris leeched across his senses until every scent, sound, and look was pinpointed on his prey.

Chris’s hunter senses served him well, Peter noted, as the other man became impossibly still yet remained poised and coiled to defend against an attack, if necessary.  If it had been anyone but Chris Argent, Peter would have been impressed.

Peter broke the spell when he grabbed a hold of the nozzle and jerked it out of his car delighting in the way Chris jumped at the movement, his hand unerringly resting on the butt of his gun in the shoulder holster.

“Christopher,” Peter drawled with a smirk on his lips that he knew infuriated most of the intended recipients.

“Hale,” Chris responded.

Peter screwed the gas cap back on and moved towards the driver’s side door.  He paused, leaning on the door, and affected a casual pose to cover the anxiety he still felt coursing through his system.  “How is the lovely Allison?  Is she looking forward to the back to school carnival?”

Chris’s face tightened at the mention of his daughter.  “You don’t get to talk about my daughter, Hale.”

“Pity,” Peter said as he tilted his head.  “She was so charming and helpful.  I assume she gets that from her mother?  I certainly wouldn’t use the words charming or helpful to describe you.” He let his eyes leisurely wander from Chris’s angry face down his chest and legs before traveling back up again.  He raised an eyebrow at the slight uptick in Chris’s heartbeat under his gaze.  Interesting, Peter thought.  To test his theory a little further he deliberately licked his lips.  He was rewarded with another jump in Chris’s pulse.  Very interesting indeed, he thought.

“Have a good evening Christopher,” Peter said as he slid into his car and closed the door behind him. 

While outwardly calm, inside Peter’s heart was racing, and as he pulled out on the road, Peter let out a long breath.  Once he was out of range of the gas station, he rolled down the window.  The late evening air was still heavy with the heat of the day as Peter stuck his head out the window and let out a long howl.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for allusions to canon child abuse.

“Hey Peter?” Cora yelled as she barreled through the front door.

“Yes Cora?”  Peter was sprawled in the recliner watching a baseball game on TV, relaxing after a long week on the job site.  He didn’t care about baseball, but it’s what Derek wanted to watch.  And if it kept Derek in the room with him for more than a few minutes, Peter was willing to watch anything.   

“Isaac’s going to crash here for a few days, okay?” Cora leaned over the back of the couch and swiped some chips from the bag Derek had in his hands.  Derek unsuccessfully tried to shoo her away, but she was faster.

“My dad’s out of town,” Isaac said.

Peter turned his head and saw the boy hovering indecisively by the door.  “Come on in Isaac, just close the door behind you?”

Isaac nodded hesitantly and closed the door a lot quieter than Cora ever managed before shuffling to stand next to the end of the couch.  He had a duffel bag clenched tightly in his hands.  Peter eyed the boy and sniffed discreetly noting the smell of dried blood and lingering anxiety.

“Have a seat Isaac.  We’re just watching the game.”

“Scoot over couch hog,” Cora said as she shoved Derek over.  “Sit, Isaac.”  Cora patted the spot on the couch next to her.  Isaac sat down gingerly but didn’t relax.  He flinched at Cora’s flying elbows as she and Derek continued to fight one another over couch space.

“Knock it off,” Peter said, as much for Isaac as his own peace of mind. Isaac was a little too timid for Peter’s tastes, but he’d stuck by Cora through everything, and loyalty was something Peter could respect.  He often suspected that Isaac’s timidity was more the result of something dark in the boy’s life as opposed to his actual nature, but every time he’d tried to broach the subject, he’d been rebuffed.

There was a moment of calm as everyone settled in.  Derek even leaned across Cora to offer the chip bag to Isaac, who shyly took a handful and nibbled at them slowly.  Peter saw Derek’s eyes catch on the bruises on Isaac’s wrists before turning his gaze to meet Peter’s eyes.  He shook his head slightly and Derek nodded as his message to discuss it later was received.

“I’m hungry.  Are there any cupcakes left?” Cora asked.

“I think you two ate the last of them for breakfast,” he answered.  “Which reminds me.  Cora, do you know some girl named Allison?  Long dark hair.  Kind of stubborn.”

“Yeah.  She goes to our school.”

“Why does she think I’m your brother?” Peter asked.  It’s something he’d been curious about, but he hadn’t corrected the girl’s error at the time.  Too busy focusing on Chris Argent, his conscience supplied.

“I don’t know.”  Cora shrugged as she shoved another chip in her mouth.  “Because she’s dumb?”

“She’s not dumb,” Isaac said softly.  “I think she’s nice.  We worked together on a science project once.”

Cora rolled her eyes.  “She’s in that group you make me go to.  The dead parents club.”

Both Peter and Derek flinched at her words.  Peter narrowed his eyes at Cora.  He would have growled at her or at least flashed his eyes in warning for her disrespect if Isaac hadn’t been around.  Cora, emboldened by her human buffer, gave him a haughty look that was eerily reminiscent of, well, him.  Peter knew Laura was going to kill him if Cora turned into a mini-me, but another part of him couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud. 

“What?  That’s what it is.  Allison’s there because her mom died.  Same with some other hyped up kid from school.” 

“Stiles,” Isaac filled in helpfully.  “He’s the cop’s kid.  His dad is nice.”

“Why do you want to know about Allison?” Cora asked.

“I ran into her and her father at the grocery store the other day.  She recognized me but called me your brother.”

“She’s weird.  Sometimes when she sits by me at group she smells funny.  I don’t know why, but she makes my nose itch and my eyes water so I try and stay away from her.  And one time some lady came to pick her up.  I think she said it was her aunt.  She was really pretty and stuff but, man, I thought Allison smelled bad.  Ugh, she absolutely reeked.”

“I don’t think Allison smells funny.”  Isaac was apparently loyal to a fault to anyone he categorized as ‘nice’.  That earned him a gentle shove from Cora.  Peter tensed up and was going to scold her, but he noted she’d done it softly and away from the bruises Peter knew existed.  Isaac smiled and nudged her back before the two decided to have it out with a thumb war. 

Wolfsbane, it had to be wolfsbane, Peter thought.  Her father fairly reeked of it the two times they’d crossed paths too.  It would make sense that Chris’s sister or sister in law was probably a hunter too.  Most hunting families were in the business together.  He’d have to ask Alan about the Argents the next time the other man checked in.  More often these days Peter found himself wishing he’d paid more attention to the outside world around him growing up.  He knew the names of the big hunting families, every born wolf did, but he never paid any attention to anything else about them.  He followed the treaties and that was that.  Obviously it was a testament to Talia and the safety she provided that he hadn’t grown up worried about hunters every day.  Unfortunately, that wasn’t helping him now. 

Peter was startled when Derek suddenly bolted upright and stumbled out of the room.  Cora turned to Peter with a questioning look as they heard him head down the hall and slam the bathroom door behind him.  The telltale sound of retching followed moments later.

“What was that about?” Cora asked as she scooped up the chip bag Derek had dropped in his haste to flee the room.  She offered some to Isaac who tentatively took another handful.

“I don’t know.”  Peter shook his head.  He got up from the recliner to follow Derek.  “Don’t spoil your dinner,” Peter said as he passed by the couch.  “We’re having spaghetti tonight.” 

He walked down the hall and paused outside the bathroom door.  He knocked softly, out of courtesy more than anything since Derek would have heard him coming.  “Derek?”

“Go away.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Peter said.  His chest tightened at the sound of Derek’s uneven breathing interspersed with muffled sobs.  He felt his claws starting to grow and clenched his hands into fists.  A quick glance down the hall to the living room showed Cora keeping Isaac occupied with some sort of story.  Peter leaned against the opposite wall and slid down so he was facing the bathroom door.  He wished away the helpless feeling he constantly carried around these days.

He didn’t know what to do with the kids most of the time.  He was still young himself and had never had any thoughts to fatherhood until the fire six months ago left him the sole legal guardian of Cora and Derek.  Peter now had a calendar on the fridge where he kept track of school events, bill due dates, counseling appointments, work schedules, and paydays.  He laid awake at night worrying about Derek and trying to think of ways to get through to him.  He concerned himself with Laura and the crushing fear that she’d have to drop out of college to take over the Alpha mantle.  He’d had to take time off from work or leave early several times to go to the school after getting a call about Cora getting into a fight or mouthing off at her teachers.

Derek, always the most sensitive of the three siblings, was the one he was most worried about though.  He acted outwardly stoic but was an inner mess of sadness and self-hatred that Peter was having a hard time deciphering.  Even Laura was at a loss for what was going on with him.  They’d both tried to encourage him to seek some counseling, but he’d refused each time they brought it up.  Peter didn’t think it helped that Derek was doing self-study before taking his GED since he refused to go back and finish his senior year of high school.  He’d also dropped all of his friends and was actively isolating himself from the rest of the world, including his family.

Peter sat in the hallway, lost in his thoughts, for an indeterminate amount of time before he finally heard some movement on the other side of the door.  He refocused his attention as Derek opened the bathroom door slowly, one eye peeking out the crack.  The tightness in his chest intensified at the strong smell of tears and grief Derek was emitting. 

“Come here,” he said, half expecting Derek to ignore him like usual and go hide away in his room by himself.  He was surprised when Derek opened the door the rest of the way and crawled over to him.  He curled his body into Peter’s and wrapped his arms around Peter’s torso.  Derek seeking out physical comfort from him was so unexpected that Peter didn’t know what to say so instead he just stroked his fingers through Derek’s thick hair while his nephew held on tight as tiny shudders wracked his body. 

At some point they must have dozed off like that because the next thing Peter knew, Cora was scuffing her foot at the end of the hallway and saying his name.

“Yes Cora?” Peter asked as he rubbed a hand across his face.

“Are we going to do something for dinner?  We’re kind of hungry,” she said.

“What time is it?”

“After six.  You guys were back here for a long time.”  She eyed both of them still sitting together in the hall.  Peter keenly felt the physical loss of his packmate as Derek shifted, pulling himself away from Peter, and sitting up.  It was nothing compared to the additional loss he felt as Derek started closing himself off emotionally.  He wouldn’t meet their eyes and his face took on that all too familiar blank look it usually carried these days.

“Derek?  You joining us?”  Peter asked, hoping to keep some sort of connection open.

Derek shook his head and muttered something unintelligible before heading down the hall to his room and closing the door behind him.  Peter’s disappointment was mirrored on Cora’s face.

He rolled to his feet and stretched the kinks out of his back and legs as he walked down the hallway.  He stopped and tentatively wrapped an arm around Cora’s shoulders.  He was rewarded when she willingly tucked into his side both giving and receiving comfort.  Together they walked out to the living room where Isaac was sitting on the couch.  “Tell me Isaac, have you ever made spaghetti?” he asked.

Isaac shook his head. 

“Well then, let’s go young man.  I have many things to teach you.”

“Don’t listen to him.  Just because he opens a can and adds some spices to it, he thinks he makes gourmet spaghetti or something,” Cora said.

“You eat cold Spaghettios from a can.  And you like it.  I think your opinion on my cooking skills is invalid.”  Peter smiled and bumped his hip against Cora.  She retaliated by elbowing him in the side before grabbing Isaac’s hand and dragging him into the kitchen with her.

A half hour later, they had just put the noodles in the pot of boiling water when Peter’s cell phone rang.  He glanced at the display and saw it was Laura.  “You,” he pointed at Isaac, “stir the sauce.  Cora, you’re on noodles.  I’ll be back in a minute.”

Peter wiped his hands on the towel and passed through the living room on his way out the front door.  He had a feeling he’d want some privacy for this call.  He glanced at Derek’s door down the hall before he left, but it remained firmly closed.

“Hello Laura.”

“What’s wrong with Derek?”

“Why hello to you too, Peter.  How are you?  I’m fine Laura, and you?”  He slipped out the apartment door and headed down the sidewalk towards the empty playground in the middle of the apartment complex.

“Peter,” Laura growled his name.

“What makes you think there’s something wrong with Derek?”

“I could feel it,” she said with worry in her voice.  “I can feel him, Peter.  It’s…it’s faint now, like it’s muted or something, but I could definitely feel him earlier.  And not just him, I can feel Cora too, and sometimes you, although that’s pretty rare.”

Peter dropped into one of the empty swings.  “When did this start?”

“I don’t know.  In the last month or so maybe?  Usually it’s barely there, just something in the background like any other scent or sound.  I was sitting in the library a few hours ago and it just hit me, this overwhelming feeling of guilt and repulsion.  I had to run to the bathroom so I didn’t get sick in the middle of the library.  I didn’t know what it was at first.  I thought something was wrong with me, but then there was like this echo of a feeling I get from Derek so I figured out it must be from him.  I told the group I was with I had some food poisoning and got someone to walk me back to the dorm.  The feeling eventually eased up, but it took a long time.” 

Peter knew it shouldn’t surprise him, Laura was a born Alpha after all.  Of course her senses would be developing, probably even accelerated with Talia gone.  But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to curse everything and shout about the unfairness of it all to the world at large.  They were only six months into the year-long mourning period.  Laura needed more time.  They all needed more time.

“Something upset him earlier,” Peter explained.

“What?”

“I don’t know.  We were watching the game, Cora and Isaac came home, they were fighting over potato chips and then he just got up and ran away.”

“Did you ask him?”

“He’s not exactly Mr. Chatty these days.”  Laura stayed silent on the other end.  “I didn’t know what to say,” Peter admitted.  “Everything I say ends up with him closing himself off.”  He took a deep breath before continuing.  “I feel like we’re losing him Laura, and I don’t know how to stop it.”  Their deepest fear was losing one of the few remaining members of their family, their pack.

There was a long pause before Laura spoke again.  “I’m coming home next weekend.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Peter protested.

“I need to see him Peter.  I need to see all of you, but it’s different with him.  It’s like I have this compulsion inside of me to make sure he’s all right.  I have to see him for myself.”  Peter could hear her rustling around on the other end of the phone.  “God, how did mom deal with this?  Did she feel this every day?”

“Just wait until Cora hits puberty,” Peter tried to lighten the mood.

“Don’t even joke about that,” Laura chuckled.  “Can you imagine what it must have been like for mom?  You, me, and then Derek all in our teens to early twenties at the same time?  All those hormones and emotions.  What a nightmare.”

“Well she did keep a good stock of infused alcohol in her study.”

“Yeah she did.”  He could hear the smile in Laura’s voice at the memory.  “Honestly, I’m starting to understand the impulse.”

“When are you heading home then?”

“After my last class on Friday.  I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

“Do you need a ride?  I’m working, but I’m sure Derek could come meet you somewhere if you needed him too.”

“No, it’s fine.  One of the guys from the dorm is going through Beacon Hills on his way home.  He said he could drop me off.”

“Okay.”  Peter was reluctant to lose the connection with Laura.  “I need to get back inside.  I left Cora and Isaac alone and in charge of dinner which, in hindsight, was probably a mistake.”

“Probably,” she agreed.

“I’ll see you Friday?”

“Yeah, see you then.”

Peter hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket.  It would be good to have Laura home.  He was loath to admit how much he missed her while she was away at school, but he did.  With only a handful of years separating them in age, they’d grown up together more like siblings than uncle and niece.  It had created an interesting and sometimes tense dynamic between them, but no one else understood what was going on quite like Laura did.  She was his ally in this new normal, and frequently he felt like she was the only one he had. 


	4. Chapter 4

To say that Peter’s week was disastrous would be an understatement of massive proportions. 

Derek avoided him like the plague and as far as Peter could tell split his time between pushups and reps with a set of free weights that had miraculously appeared one day.  Peter’s reward for asking if his goal was to grow up and compete in bodybuilding competitions was answered with a flash of blue eyes and a bedroom door slammed in his face.  Peter thought Derek’s reaction was uncalled for honestly.  If Derek’s dream was to slather himself in self-tanner and oil and flex his muscles on stage in some tight shorts, who was Peter to tell him no?  It was good to have dreams.  Which was why he’d purchased a pair of ridiculously small and garish speedos that he’d left on Derek’s bed with a note pinned to them that read, “Think big, little man.”

Isaac was underfoot until about mid-week which meant Peter was sleeping on the couch which was hell on his back.  They only had a two bedroom apartment and the sleeping arrangement was split boys and girls.  He wasn’t going to have Isaac bunk in Cora’s room because that was borrowing trouble he didn’t need, so he put Isaac in his bed in the room he shared with Derek and ignored Derek’s glares at the intrusion.  Technically he could have crashed in Laura’s bed in the room she shared with Cora, but the couch seemed the better option.

Work was a mess of delays, clients changing up their specifications mid-job, and on one memorable occasion, he’d been given the wrong address for a job site and lost a morning’s worth of time and wages driving all over to get where he was supposed to be.

Cora got an in school suspension for a week, and Peter was called into a meeting with the principal after she “used extremely foul language in class and bodily threatened another student.”  When he’d asked her later what happened, Cora said the other kid was being a dick to Isaac and she stuck up for him.

“Jackson just kept picking at Isaac and wouldn’t let up, so I warned him to knock it off.  Then he tried to get in my face and asked me what I was going to do about it, so I told him that if he touched Isaac again I was going to make him regret it.  He knocked into Isaac’s shoulder like it was an accident, but I knew it was for real, so I told him that if he ‘fucking laid another fucking hand on my fucking friend, I was going to cut off his balls, stuff them in his mouth and sew it fucking shut until he choked to death.”

While Peter applauded Cora for her loyalty and the effectiveness of her threat, even he had to admit it was a bit heavy-handed, especially for an 11 year old.  They’d have to work on her subtlety.  “Where did you even hear of something like that?”

“Erica has HBO and knows the code to the parental lock on the TV.”

Unfortunately, the other student’s father was an assistant District Attorney in town who had argued Cora’s punishment up from detention to suspension due to the implied threat to his son’s safety.  The principal had warned Peter that he could only give Cora so much leeway before she was beyond his ability to protect.

So when Peter entered the apartment Friday afternoon and was greeted with the sight of Laura on the couch sipping tea and talking quietly with Derek, he’d wanted to weep in relief.  Instead he’d dragged himself to the shower to clear off the day’s dirt and collapsed in bed, his own bed thankfully, and nodded off.

He woke up to Laura perched on the edge of the bed, softly calling his name.

“I’m awake,” he mumbled and rolled onto his back.

She chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear in a move so reminiscent of Talia that his heart throbbed.  “That’s debatable.”

“What time is it?”

“Just after seven,” Laura said.  “I came to see if you want to join us?  We’re doing frozen pizza, popcorn and a movie.”

“Even Derek?”

“Yeah.  I tried to talk to him this afternoon, but he’s being close lipped about what’s bothering him.  Well, besides you.  He had a laundry list of complaints about you.”  Laura grinned.  “I think my favorite was ‘unhelpful sarcasm’.  Or maybe it was ‘the way he breathes at night’.  Yeah, on second thought, I think that one was my favorite.”

Peter rolled his eyes. 

“Come on,” Laura said as she patted his leg.  “We’re going to push the couch back, drag all the mattresses onto the floor in front of the TV and sleep out there.  It’ll be like a sleepover.”

“Are you sure I’m invited?  I wouldn’t want my night breathing to threaten someone’s sweet dreams.”

Laura grabbed ahold of his arm and dragged him up.  “Yes, you’re invited.  I want you there.  Cora wants you there.  Derek – well, he probably doesn’t want you there, but he can suck it up and deal.  We’re doing a pack night tonight and I want everyone there.”

He’d been doubtful, but pack night ended without any bloodshed or tears so Peter considered it a success.  The following morning found all four of them in the small kitchen happily bumping in to one another.

“So what’s on the agenda for today?” Laura asked as she stirred eggs.

It was an unspoken rule that when Laura came home, family time was at a premium.  They all needed the comfort and strength that could only come from time spent with pack. 

“Can we go to the Preserve?” Cora asked.  “It’s been so long since we’ve all gone and played.”

Laura lifted a questioning brow at Peter who nodded his agreement in between sips of coffee.  All three of them turned to stare at Derek who was drinking some sort of disgusting smelling protein shake.  He glared at them but it was more for show than anything.

“Yeah, fine,” he grumbled.

“Awesome!” Cora shouted.

Breakfast was a noisy, rushed affair with Cora encouraging them to get a move on.  Peter was sure the rest of the pack felt as eager as he did to get out and run free.  Cora was right, it had been far too long.

At the Preserve, they clambered out of Peter’s car, and it took all of two seconds for Cora to grab Derek’s arm to tag him and run off after yelling, “You’re it!”  Peter grinned and took off like a shot one way while Laura fled in another direction.

Peter ran fast, reveling in the hybrid game of tag and hide-and-go-seek that they’d all grown up playing together.  He used his claws to help him scale a tree and remain undetected while Derek ran through the woods below him.  Derek stopped and twisted his head, trying to track a scent, before sharply veering to the left and running away.  Peter dropped down and followed at a discreet distance.  He’d never been one to simply evade his pursuer and hope for the best.  He preferred to track the one tracking him.

He caught up to Derek in time to see him tackle Laura and shout as he tagged her before bounding off into the trees to his right.  Peter ducked behind a rock and watched as Laura brushed herself off and straightened her ponytail.  Like Derek she scented the air, trying to pick up the trail of someone.  Peter shifted downwind from her and hid behind a tree.

“I know you’re there,” she said.  “I just can’t pinpoint you.”

Peter dropped back a little, prepared to retreat if necessary to avoid Laura when he saw her tear off in a different direction.  His ears detected a distant howl several minutes later as Cora was the next one tagged.

Peter headed off in an easterly direction hoping to circle around the back and pick up on Cora’s scent before Cora picked up on him when something else caught his attention.  It took him all of five seconds to place the newly familiar scent.  “Argent,” he growled.

Peter crept forward cautiously, following the scent to a small clearing in a copse of trees.  He observed Chris Argent, seemingly alone, practicing with a bow and several targets.  Peter stayed back as several silver tipped arrows unerringly found their target on a tree on the other side of the small clearing. 

Peter, staying silent and out of sight, carefully completed a half circle around Chris watching from almost every angle as he reloaded and shot arrow after arrow into his targets.  He never missed.  Chris finally took a break, setting his bow down on a tree stump and grabbing a bottle of water.  Peter watched the long line of the other man’s throat as he tilted his head back to drink deeply.  When Chris finished drinking, he wiped his forearm across his forehead leaving the hair along his hairline ruffled.

“I know you’re there,” Chris said conversationally.  He set the water bottle on the same stump as his bow.  “I know that you’ve been there for at least ten minutes now.”

Peter froze.

“Enjoying the show?”

Chris probably expected Peter to turn tail and run away after being called out.  If he was being honest with himself, it was probably the safest course of action.

“More like 18 minutes,” he said as he stepped into the clearing.  “But who’s counting?”

“Hale.”

Peter felt a flash of irritation at the generic greeting.  “You wound me Christopher.  We met, were introduced, had a moment, and yet, you can’t remember my name?”

Chris bared his teeth in a mockery of a smile.  “I don’t consider you threatening my daughter as ‘a moment’.”

“Oh please, Allison was never in any danger from me.  I was simply trying to protect myself from you.”

“By holding a 12 year old girl hostage?”

“Hostage is such a strong word,” Peter scoffed.  “The lovely Allison was simply helping me make an informed decision on frosting.”

“I’m well aware of who you are,” Chris said before adding, “Peter Hale.”

“Well this will certainly go down as a red letter day.  ‘Dear diary, today Christopher Argent actually said my name.  Swoon.’”  Peter paced slowly around the perimeter of trees.  He stopped and traced one of the arrows with his finger from end to tip.  He looked up at Chris, pleased to note he was having some sort of effect on the other man given the way his heart rate jumped.  “What do you think you know about me, Christopher?”

“Enough to know you’re trouble that I want no part of.”

“Oh, I don’t know.  I think that if given the chance you’d enjoy my parts.”

Chris gave him a look that felt like a physical touch as it travelled from his head down to his feet and back up again leaving Peter breathless.  “Undoubtedly,” he said dryly.  “However, I don’t fuck wolves.”

“So you let wolves fuck you?”  Peter tilted his head in fake consideration.  “I could work with that.” 

Whatever Chris had been about to say in reply was cut off by a long, loud howl followed by two more in quick succession.  Chris looked over his shoulder in the direction the howls had originated before turning his heated gaze back to Peter.  “I’m pretty sure that’s for you.”

Peter felt disappointment warring with the instinctive need to answer his pack.  The howls sounded again.  Peter opened his mouth and let out a loud howl in response to the calls of his pack.  Another howl, Laura this time, called a response to him.

“Until next time Christopher,” he said as he sprinted to join his family. 


	5. Chapter 5

Saturday night found Peter with a night to himself.  Cora was at Isaac’s, and Laura had requested some bonding time with Derek sans Peter which he was all too happy to oblige.  He’d puttered around the empty apartment a little, trying to find something on TV or attempting to read a book, but between the morning in the Preserve and his encounter with Chris Argent, Peter was feeling too wired to stay in. 

He figured he’d hit up the bar and see if he could chase down a poker game.  Talia had always disapproved of his penchant for poker, but he had no qualms against using his enhanced senses to give him a little edge over the rest of the players at the table, especially when it paid dividends in his wallet at the end of the night.

He hopped in the shower and cranked the hot water as high as he could stand it.  The crummy apartment water pressure was a joke, but at least it got hot.  He luxuriated in the feeling of the slightly too hot water as it hit the back of his bowed head and splashed down his body.

Peter thought back to his morning run-in with Chris.  He recalled the stretch of the t-shirt across the other man’s arms as he’d notched the arrow and the way his long legs looked in the stance to fire.  Peter knew there was no denying Chris Argent was an attractive man or that Peter wanted him.  He was also sure the inexplicable attraction was completely mutual.

Peter braced one hand against the tile wall and took a hold of himself with the other.  He stroked as his mind supplied images of him and Chris together.  He tried to imagine what it would be like to be naked beneath the other man, egging Chris on as he thrust into Peter so hard the headboard left dents in the drywall.  He pictured going down on Chris, driving him crazy with his mouth and tongue, until Chris spilled in his mouth.  He stroked faster, straining for release, as more visions of what he wanted to do with the other man filled his mind.  Peter came with a groan, leaning forward to brace his forehead against his forearm while his racing heart returned to normal.  He took his time rinsing off, enjoying the rare chance to stay in the shower without having to save any hot water for Derek or Cora.

This game he was playing with Chris was a bad idea.  Fantasies and flirting were one thing.  Logically he knew getting involved with a hunter wouldn’t end well, but it had been a while since he’d felt that instant attraction to anyone.  Of course it was just his luck that the first guy he’d been remotely interested in for almost a year was also the scion of one of the oldest hunting families.  Peter blamed part of his lapse of judgment on the fact that his brain was fried from playing parent to one broody teen and a future juvenile delinquent.

When the water temperature finally started to drop, Peter shut the shower off and grabbed a towel.  Maybe getting laid would help burn this Argent related nonsense out of his blood, he thought hopefully as he got dressed.

The bar he picked wasn’t the most happening place in Beacon Hills, but the beer was cold and there was almost always a poker game or pool tournament to be had.  He wouldn’t say he was a regular, but he’d been frequenting the place since he got his first fake ID back in high school.  It was a long metal building, located on the outskirts of town, with a gravel parking lot and bordered on two sides by forest.  The clientele was a pretty reliable mix of locals and people just passing through on the nearby state highway. 

 “Any games tonight?” Peter asked while the bartender poured his beer.

“Back room.  $20 buy in.”

“Thanks,” Peter said.  He paid for his beer and made his way to the back room.

Peter sipped at his beer and studied the other players while he waited to be dealt into the poker game.  Most of the other players were fairly amateur, online poker heroes in their own minds, but there were a couple of guys, especially the tall one in the corner, who knew what they were doing. 

Peter was cautious not to win too much, too fast so he didn’t bring any negative attention to himself.  He did go heads up a couple times because, quite honestly, there was no fun in playing if you only ever played it safe.  He folded a weak hand and was ordering a fresh beer from the waitress when something near the door caught his attention.  He craned his head to see around the people in his way and saw Chris Argent standing in the doorway, smiling and talking to someone.

Well, well, he thought to himself.  This is certainly interesting.

Peter took the time to study Chris before the other man realized he was there.  Chris acted relaxed, but Peter could see the situational awareness that permeated Chris’s demeanor.  He was fully armed, but then was there ever a time the man wasn’t fully armed?  He probably even slept that way, he thought.  Peter’s mind wandered at the myriad of possibilities before snapping back to the scene at hand as Chris took a drink of beer and laughed along with his companion.

Peter posted the big blind and checked when it came back around to him.  The flop had nothing for him, so he folded his hand again.  When he looked up next, Chris was staring at him, beer paused halfway to his mouth.  Peter raised his own drink in salute and took a drink, feeling Chris’s eyes on him the entire time.

Peter played a couple more hands, but he was only half paying attention, if that.  The majority of his attention was on Chris as he moved through the room.  Every few minutes or so their eyes would meet and Peter felt the skin along the back of his neck prickle with awareness at the heated look in Chris’s eyes.  Eventually Chris joined the onlookers watching the game.  He positioned himself right in Peter’s sight line so he couldn’t help but look at the other man every time he looked up. After the second reminder that it was his turn, Peter decided to give up the fight and cash out while he was still ahead.

Peter collected his winnings and excused himself from the table.  He wove through the onlookers and purposely brushed by Chris, touching the back of his hand to Chris’s own as he passed by.  He smirked at the hitch in Chris’s breathing at the light contact between the two of them. 

Peter grabbed another beer from the bar and made his way to the dart boards.  He fed the machine his money and gathered some darts from the cup between the boards.  Peter stood behind the line on the floor in front of the board and brought the dart up, aiming it carefully before releasing it. 

“Good aim,” Chris said, standing so close to Peter he could feel the body heat the other man was emitting.

Peter reveled in the feelings Chris’s proximity was causing in him, pleased he didn’t have to wait long before Chris approached.  “Thank you.  Do you play?” Peter asked.

“It’s been years.”

“Would you like to play?” Peter held up the darts.

“With you?”  Chris cocked an eyebrow.

“Well, I guess you could play with yourself if that’s what you’re into.  Personally I find it more fulfilling to play with someone else,” Peter said with a grin.

“Does that innocent act actually fool anyone?”

Peter shrugged his shoulders lazily.  “It’s part of my many charms.”

“I bet,” Chris muttered.  He set his beer on the table and accepted the set of darts from Peter.  “How about Around the World?”

“That works for me.”

It soon became apparent to Peter that Chris took his darts, probably like most things in his life, very seriously.  He was also very, very good, for someone who claimed he hadn’t played in years.  Of course just that morning the man had been in the forest shooting targets, so it’s not like Peter was necessarily surprised. 

Peter lost the first and second rounds.  They’d just started the third round when he got the idea to see if he could distract Chris as much as Chris had distracted him during his poker game.  He waited until Chris was getting into position before he silently crept up behind Chris and breathed lightly on the back of his neck.  Chris completely blew his turn and scowled at Peter who grinned innocently.  The next time Chris was up, Peter pretended to get jostled into him by someone walking by and grabbed a hold of Chris’s ass to steady himself.  He tried everything he could think of without getting himself arrested for indecency and felt satisfaction as it paid off with him narrowly winning the third round.

“You don’t play fair,” Chris remarked as he drained the last of his beer.

“I’ve never seen the merit in that,” Peter said.  “What’s the fun in sportsmanship if you don’t win?”

“But you didn’t win,” Chris replied with confusion.

Peter leaned forward and ghosted his lips over the shell of Chris’s ear.  “It doesn’t feel like I lost,” he said as he ran a finger down Chris’s forearm marveling at the goose bumps he left in his wake.

Chris growled a little under his breath and grabbed Peter’s hand.  “Stop it,” he said and Peter froze.  Chris stared at Peter’s mouth and slowly leaned forward, as if to kiss Peter, before pulling back abruptly before their lips met.

Peter was disappointed and confused when Chris didn’t follow through and kiss him.  He stared at Chris, searching his face to see if he’d misread the signs, but Chris’s face was carefully blank and devoid of expression.  Peter withdrew his hand and took a step back.  “Well, this has been a lovely evening, Christopher.”  He dug his car keys out of his pocket and twirled the ring around his finger.  “I’d say let’s do this again sometime, but I’d be lying,” he said.  He walked out of the bar feeling Chris’s eyes on his back the entire time.

Peter unlocked his car and was preparing to open the driver’s side door when something shoved him into the side of his vehicle.  He instinctively prepared to fight before registering a split second later that it was actually Chris who had him shoved up against the back panel of his car with hands fisted in his shirt. 

Chris leaned his forehead against the back of Peter’s head and was panting heavily.  “You drive me crazy,” he said harshly.

“You’re in good company.  I’ve been told I have that effect on people.”

Chris tightened his hold on Peter’s shirt for a second before loosening his grip and sliding his hands down Peter’s arms to encircle his wrists.  Peter moaned softly as Chris pinned his wrists down on the hood of the car and pressed his chest into Peter’s back.

Peter’s eyes closed as Chris’s mouth found that spot on his neck, just beneath his ear and bit down hard.  “Jesus,” he groaned when Chris’s tongue soothed the bite.

Eventually, Chris let go of his wrists and forced him to turn around before taking a step closer and pinning Peter to the car with his body.  Peter opened his mouth willingly as their mouths finally pressed together.  Chris kept him pinned to the car as they kissed, oblivious to the world around them.  Peter was shamelessly riding the thigh Chris had inserted between his legs when he heard Chris mutter something.

“What?” Peter asked between kisses to Chris’s neck.

“Phone,” Chris broke off with a groan.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Your phone,” Chris said as he pulled away.  “It’s ringing.”  Chris took a full step back and ran a hand over his face.

Peter watched him with glazed eyes before digging a hand into his pocket to grab his phone.  The display told him it was Cora calling.

“Hello Cora,” he greeted, trying to tamp down on his annoyance.

“Peter?” He snapped to attention at the thread of fear in her voice.  “Peter, I don’t know what to do,” she said in a panic.

“Cora, what’s wrong?” Peter felt his heart drop to his stomach.  “Where are you?”

“We’re at the apartment, Peter.  Please help us.  Please.”

“Stay there.  Lock the door, turn off the lights and don’t go near any windows.  I’m on my way right now.  I’ll be there in 10 minutes, I promise.”

“Hurry,” she whimpered causing Peter’s heart to stutter in terror.

“10 minutes, Cora.  I promise.”   

He disconnected the call and flung open the driver’s side door tossing his phone and wallet in the car before locking it up.  He turned back to see Chris still standing there.

“Go,” Chris said.

Peter nodded and tossed his keys to Chris who caught them easily.  He started stripping off his shirt as he took off for the woods.  He was fully transformed into his wolf form by the time he hit the tree line.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for a graphic description of emotional and physical child abuse and a second scene involving a graphic description of torture. 
> 
> Skip to end notes if you want a summary of the chapter without reading due to content.

Peter loped through the woods, leaping fallen trees and dodging across dried up stream beds.  The crackle of dead leaves and the underlying smell of decay in the woods as the late summer bled to fall filled his senses.  Underneath all of that though, was the scent he kept in his memory of Cora.  It was faint, but it called to him as he tracked it through the forest.  He slowed down cautiously as he darted across a busy street, but sped back up again as he kept close to the shadows in the residential areas.  He stayed out of the glow cast by street lights and dodged some garbage cans and fences as he took the most direct route possible, crossing through yards as needed.

Past the last block of houses, on the other side of the drainage ditch, the apartment building loomed large in front of him.  He picked his way across the ditch, careful for the cluttered debris of broken bottles that usually collected there.  A quick scan for danger in the area came up clear, so Peter proceeded forward towards the apartment building.  In their unit, the windows were dark, but he could smell Cora and Isaac inside.  Peter let out a low howl to let Cora know he was there.

He was rewarded a moment later when Cora peeked out the window, her relief flooding the air around him.  She took a quick look around before opening the window and popping the screen off.  She stood back while he jumped through the opening and landed in his and Derek’s room.  Peter took a second to verify only Cora and Isaac were in the apartment before transforming back to his human form.  Cora rushed into his arms and clung to him.  The air in the apartment was a cloying mixture of fear, anger, and relief.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked as he held her tight. 

Cora pulled back a little and nodded her head, but Peter could smell salt from the tear tracks on her face.  He cupped his hands around her head and wiped at the dried tracks with his thumbs. 

“Tell me what happened,” Peter said.

Cora collapsed on the end of the bed and started her story in halting terms as Peter grabbed some sweatpants and pulled them on. 

“We were at Isaac’s just playing video games in the living room like usual.  His dad wasn’t there, but that’s pretty common.  Isaac doesn’t like to have people over when his dad is home.”  She paused and Peter sat down beside her and grabbed her small hand in his encouraging her to continue.  “I had to pee so I went to the bathroom.  I guess that’s when his dad came home?  I don’t know.  I wasn’t in there long, but when I was washing my hands I heard yelling.”

“I peeked my head out the door and saw Isaac’s dad standing there with his back to me.  Isaac…” she trailed off and took a breath before continuing.  “He saw me there.  Like he looked at me and shook his head, but his dad didn’t see.”  Peter wrapped an arm around her shoulders.  She leaned into him as she continued.  “So I just stayed there, out of sight, kind of in the shadows hoping he’d leave, but he just kept yelling.”  She started hiccupping a little.  “He said so many mean things, Peter.”  She looked up into Peter’s face.  “Why would anyone say such bad things to his own kid?  Stuff like he wished he’d never been born and he was worthless.”

Peter’s heart pounded in his ears as his worst fears about Isaac’s home life were confirmed.  “I don’t know, Cora.  Some people are just bad and they say hurtful, bad things to others because it makes them feel better.  It doesn’t mean anything he said was true,” he said.  Peter hugged Cora tight to him.  “So what happened next?”

“Isaac’s dad went into the kitchen or something, I think?  I thought he was going to leave, but he came back right away and just hit him,” she trailed off in a whisper.  “He slapped him right in the face, and when Isaac looked up, I could see some blood.  It wasn’t a lot, but he was bleeding and it freaked me out.  Isaac tried to duck but then his dad hit him again a couple times.  I was frozen.  I wanted to move and help Isaac, but it was like I couldn’t move or shout or anything.”  She shook her head and stared down at her hands twisting in her lap.  “By then Isaac was curled on the couch in a little ball so his dad grabbed his arm and started dragging him.  Isaac was crying and begging him to stop so I knew I had to do something.”

“What did you do?”

“Isaac’s baseball bat was leaning against the wall by the couch so I grabbed it and then hit him in the arm so he’d let Isaac go.  He called me a ‘little bitch’ and slapped me so hard I fell backwards onto the floor so I just kicked his knee as hard as I could.  He kind of hunched over afterwards so I grabbed Isaac and we ran here as fast as we could.”

“You did the right thing coming here,” Peter said.  He wanted to tell her that her home, her den, was always the safest place from the outside world, but the lies burned bitter in his throat so he stayed silent.

“We didn’t know if he was following us or going to call the police so we kind of panicked and that’s when I called you.”

“Where is Isaac now?” Peter asked.

“I left him on the couch with the cast iron frying pan and my phone,” she said.  “I have Laura’s tazer,” she added and patted her side.

“Good girl,” he said, but Cora’s body language remained a combination of uncertainty and reproach.  “I want you to know that I’m proud of you and what you did tonight,” he added.

“Even though I let Isaac get hurt?”

“No one hurt Isaac but his dad.  You’re still a kid, Cora.  No matter how tough you act, you’re still twelve and you got scared and froze.  It’s not even a kid thing because it happens to adults too and is nothing to be ashamed about.  You acted when you had a chance to get yourself and your pack member to safety, and that is something to be proud of.  Do you understand me?”

Cora nodded slowly, but Peter could still see the self-doubt plain on her face.  “Let’s go check Isaac out,” he said to change the subject.  Cora wasn’t going to be magically healed by his words, and he was worried about Isaac.  “I want to see his injuries.”

Peter followed Cora down the hallway and into the living room.  Isaac jumped at their silent approach when he finally noticed them behind the couch before settling back down and loosening his grip on the frying pan.

“Hello Isaac,” Peter said softly.  His eyes scanned the boy’s face seeing the fat lip and the trickle of dried blood at the corner of his mouth.  There was also a bruise blossoming on his cheekbone under his eye.  “May I take a look at your injuries?”

Isaac nodded and Peter kept his touch gentle as he ghosted fingers over the boy’s face and neck to assess the damage.  “Where else are you hurt?”

“My arm and my side,” Isaac whispered.  Peter looked at Isaac’s forearm and noticed redness indicating he’d have finger shaped bruises there by tomorrow.  “May I?” he asked, indicating Isaac’s wrinkled t-shirt.  Isaac nodded his permission and Peter drew up the side of the shirt to reveal an ugly mottle of bruised flesh.  He moved closer, ostensibly for a better look, but in reality he wanted to smell and see if he could detect any internal bleeding.  Satisfied there was no internal damage as he had first feared, Peter eased the boy’s shirt back down and glanced at Cora who was watching with fearful and guilt ridden eyes.

Peter’s mind spun, trying to decide on the best course of action.  Obviously he wasn’t going to send Isaac back to that house.  That was unconscionable.   “Cora,” he said, “can you go to the kitchen and put together some ice bags for Isaac please?”

Cora looked to Isaac who gave her a little nod.  She gave Peter a long look, but slowly stood up and moved toward the kitchen.  Peter waited until he heard her grab some plastic bags and the ice trays out of the freezer before he spoke.

“Has this happened before Isaac?”

Isaac kept his eyes downcast and fingered the ragged ends of his t-shirt.  “Yeah,” he said so softly Peter wasn’t sure he’d have heard it without his enhanced senses.

“What do you usually do after he hurts you?”

Isaac’s shoulders hunched up around his ears before he winced as the action pulled the bruised muscles on his torso.  “It’s not usually this bad.  I just go hide out until he cools down or passes out or whatever.  Sometimes I’ll go to a friend’s house.”

“Does anyone else know about this?  A teacher or someone at school?”

Isaac shook his head.  “Nobody knows.”

“Do you have any other family around?”

“No,” Isaac’s eyes squeezed shut as they started leaking tears.  “Mom left and my brother joined the Army so it’s just me and dad.”  He sniffed and rubbed a finger under his leaking nose.

“Okay,” Peter said as soothingly as he could manage over the rage he felt boiling in his gut.  He could hear Cora taking her time in the kitchen, no doubt listening intently to the exchange.  “Here’s what I’d like to suggest, and I want your opinion, okay?” Isaac looked up at Peter from under tear stained lashes.

“I don’t want you to go home.  I don’t think that’s a good idea.  I also think we should take you to the clinic and get you checked out by a doctor to make sure there isn’t anything broken.”  He paused to gauge Isaac’s reaction, but the boy seemed okay with the plan so far.  “That means they’re going to call the police, and they’re going to ask you some questions about your dad.”

“Can’t I just stay here for a few days?” Isaac asked.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly.  “But if they’ll let you stay with us for a while, after the doctor says you’re okay, than you are more than welcome to stay here.”  He saw hope blossom in Isaac’s eyes.  “I can’t promise they’ll let you stay here, but I’ll do everything I can, okay?”

Isaac nodded in agreement as Cora walked back into the living room holding an ice pack that she handed to Isaac.  He gingerly applied it to his swollen lip.  She sat on the edge of the couch, taking up a position just behind Isaac’s back in an unconsciously protective move.

“Cora, can you call Laura and ask her to come home?  We’ll need her car to take Isaac to the clinic.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I’m going to Isaac’s house.”

“Peter, no!” Cora protested while Isaac’s face paled.  “What if he’s there?”

“I’ll be careful,” Peter assured them.  “But if Isaac is going to stay here, he needs some things like clothes and his toothbrush.  Is there anything else you want from your house Isaac?  I’ll grab some clothes from your room, but is there anything specific you want?”

Isaac slowly shook his head.

“I’ll be right back,” Peter promised.  He ran back to his room to grab a shirt and some shoes from the closet.  “Lock the door behind me and call Laura,” Peter reminded the kids as he slipped out of the apartment.

He hurried the couple of blocks over to the Lahey house.  Once he got there, everything seemed pretty quiet from the outside.  He strained to hear if anyone was inside but came up empty.  He stepped up on the porch that was starting to sag and knocked on the door.  No one answered so he knocked again to be sure before casting a quick look around.  None of the neighbors appeared to be paying any attention so he twisted the knob.  It was locked so he twisted it harder and broke it.  He then shoved a shoulder into the door to open it.  He stepped into the house and attempted to close the busted door as much as possible.

He glanced around the empty front room, taking in the TV still frozen on the kids’ video game and the coffee table that was turned over.  He could see into the kitchen from his vantage point and saw a six pack of beer warming on the counter.  He took a step forward and saw a discarded baseball bat lying in the mouth of the hallway.  The house was empty but the lingering atmosphere of rage and fear still permeated the place.

Peter cautiously stepped forward and used his senses to lead him down the short hall to Isaac’s bedroom.  He located a duffel bag on the floor at the end of Isaac’s bed.  He unzipped it and set it on the bed before turning and pulling out drawers in the dresser.  He grabbed handfuls of socks and underwear and tossed them in the duffel.  The other drawer in the dresser appeared to house a collection of junk so he closed it and took a step over to the closet.  Inside he found some jeans and shirts plus a couple of hoodies.  Peter grabbed as many as he thought would fit in the bag.

He took one more look around the room but didn’t see anything that seemed to hold any sentimental value to Isaac.  There was nothing in a place of honor, no mementos of any kind.  Peter thought for a moment before deciding to grab the kid’s pillow.  As he pulled it off the bed something fluttered to the carpet.  Peter bent down to pick up two pictures that had fallen out the edge of the pillow case.  One was a young Isaac with an older boy who was presumably his brother.  The other was of a young woman with Isaac’s eyes sitting at a kitchen table smoking.   Peter carefully set both pictures in the duffel bag and zipped it up before grabbing the pillow and leaving the room.

He was two steps across the front room when he heard someone just outside the front door.

“What the –“ he heard right before Lahey shoved the broken door inwards.  “Who the fuck are you?” Lahey shouted as his eyes landed on Peter.

Peter sneered as he was confronted with Isaac’s tormentor.  Every instinct in him was telling him to wolf out and tear the man limb from limb.  Peter could feel his teeth elongate as his blood lust rose.  His fangs itched at the thought of sinking into the man’s tender flesh and ripping through muscle and bone until the man felt the physical embodiment of all the pain he’d caused Isaac.

“I came here for some of Isaac’s belongings.  He won’t be coming back here.”

“Oh yeah?  Says who?” Lahey’s face darkened.

“I do,” Peter responded.

Lahey scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “You think you can take me on you little prick?”

Peter’s eyes flashed blue in warning.  He opened his mouth to display his dripping fangs.  “Oh, I think you’re the one who should be worried about me,” he snarled.

“What the fuck kind of freak are you?” Lahey’s voice now held a thread of fear and Peter’s wolf latched onto it with pride.  The other man was tripping over his own feet as he shuffled backwards to get away from Peter.

Peter dropped the bag and pillow he was holding and sped across the room in one smooth motion.  He pinned Lahey to the wall with one clawed hand around his neck.  “I am your worst nightmare you disgusting piece of shit.”  Lahey flinched as Peter tightened his grip so that his claws dug into the skin on both sides of the man’s neck, drawing blood.  He panted as he fought to keep his blood lust in check and stared into Lahey’s terrified eyes as a plan formed.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said.  “Isaac isn’t coming back here.  You’ve lost any rights to your son as far as I’m concerned.  In fact, you’re going to sign whatever paperwork you need to sign giving up your parental rights and give those rights over to me.”

“Why would I do that?” Lahey sputtered.

Peter growled and slashed the claws from his other hand across Lahey’s forearm leaving some bleeding gashes behind.  He ignored Lahey’s whimpers of pain.

“Because if you don’t, I’m going to drag you out to the deepest and most remote part of the Preserve,” he said.  “Did you know there are parts of that forest humans rarely traverse?  No one would find you, but most importantly, no one would hear you as I tied you to a tree.  I wouldn’t even gag you, would just let you yell and scream as I broke every bone in your body one by one.  If you passed out from the pain, and make no mistake, you would, I’d just stop until you woke up and then we would start all over again.”  Peter grinned before continuing.  “But that’s just the beginning.  Afterwards, I’d strip your flesh from your body.  I’d start in the less vital areas so you could live through the majority of the pain.  I want you to feel every torturous second of it as I loosen your skin from your body in small chunks over and over and over again.” 

Peter paused in his recitation to revel in the terror wafting from Lahey.  “You’d beg to die, of course, but that would be too easy an out.  I’d let the elements, or the other animals do that for me.  My gift to my brethren.”  Peter continued to describe the scene in detail.  “I’d stake you out on the ground so everyone, even the ants, could have their fair share.  You know how deer like salt licks?  I might even coat some of your broken flesh in salt, so they could lick it from your body.  Can you imagine the pain you’d feel at their tongues spreading salt further and further into your wounds as they try and lick up the salty flavor?”

Lahey’s eyes bulged and sweat trickled down his forehead.  “You’re lying,” he whispered.

Peter leaned forward and plunged his fangs into the other man’s neck, reveling in the taste of warm coppery blood that filled his mouth, before pulling back and letting his teeth rip through tender flesh.  Lahey’s panicked screams were full of terror and pain as Peter stepped back with a wolfish grin, licking at the blood that stained his lips.   He watched as Lahey pressed a hand to the non-fatal wound on his neck to stave off the staunch of blood.

“You’re - you’re an animal!” Lahey shouted.

“I am Peter Hale,” he said as he drew himself up to his full height.  “I am a werewolf.  Do not ever forget those two things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter returns home to find an injured Isaac who was beaten by his father. Peter confronts Isaac's father and threatens him with torture if he doesn't sign over his parental rights. During the confrontation Peter attacks and bites Mr. Lahey.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picks up where last chapter left off, so warnings for mentions of child abuse and brief mention of werewolf attack.

Peter got back to the apartment complex at the same time that Laura and Derek were pulling in to the parking lot.

“Peter!  What’s going on?  I got a frantic call from Cora saying we needed to get home.  Is she okay?”  Laura stepped out of the car.  She froze and Peter looked down to see what she was staring at.  There were several bloodstains on the front of his t-shirt.  “Whose blood is that?” Laura demanded.

Peter’s glance darted around the empty parking lot.  “We need to get Isaac to the hospital.”  Laura gave him a shocked look.  “It’s not his blood,” Peter assured her.

“His dad?” Derek asked quietly.

Peter nodded. 

“His dad?  I don’t understand,” Laura said as she looked between Derek and Peter for an explanation.

“It’s taken care of,” Peter said.  “Lahey won’t be an issue any longer.”  At Derek’s questioning look he clarified, “He’s still alive.  We’ve just come to an understanding.”

“What kind of understanding?” Laura asked.

“Isaac is going to be staying with us from now on,” Peter explained.  “In the meantime, we need to get him over to the hospital to get looked at.”

“What?” Derek and Laura asked in unison.

“How are you going to make that happen?” Laura asked.

“Lahey is going to make it happen.  He’s going to sign paperwork giving up his paternal rights and granting me guardianship.”

“I don’t think it works that way,” Laura said.

“Well, it’s going to work that way,” Peter said confidently.  “I can be very persuasive.”

“And what if he rats you out to the cops?  What then Peter?”

“He won’t,” Peter assured them.

“You attacked a human, Peter!  I understand you have a soft spot for this kid, but you’re putting your family, your pack, at risk with your actions.”  Laura’s voice took on a deeper cadence that Peter instantly recognized as the voice of the Alpha.  He wondered if she was even aware of it while he simultaneously bristled at the implications.

“Lahey deserved it,” Peter insisted.

“That’s not for you to decide.”

Peter snarled and advanced on Laura.  “He is a disgusting human being, a coward, who takes his frustration out on his son.  This time he hit not only his son, but he also laid a hand on Cora.  He touched what is mine and he had to pay.”

“You’re risking bringing down the wrath of hunters on all our heads!”

“It was justified,” Peter said.

“It was unprovoked.”

“IT WAS RETRIBUTION!” Peter shouted.  He was toe to toe with Laura.  His wolf was spoiling for a fight, something he could see in Laura too, as her eyes flickered and her face began to shift. 

“Please stop fighting,” Derek pleaded with them.  “We need to get Isaac to the hospital.  We can deal with this later.”

Peter continued to glare at Laura, looking for the first sign of weakness or attack, but she wasn’t giving anything away, nor was she backing down.  Derek started to whine in the back of his throat and the sound called to Peter in a way it hurt to ignore.  It wasn’t until Cora and Isaac came out of the apartment building a few moments later that Laura looked away first.  Peter’s wolf crowed at the sign of submission.  Not Alpha yet, his mind supplied.

Cora tossed him a clean t-shirt, which he quickly changed into, bundling the old one up and shoving it under the seat as he settled into the front passenger side.  Laura was driving, her hands gripped so tightly on the wheel, her knuckles were white.  She refused to speak, or even glance in his direction.  Peter glanced over his shoulder to see Isaac sandwiched between Cora and Derek in the back, both kids touching him almost constantly in a bid for reassurance.

At the hospital, Cora stayed huddled closely between Laura and Derek in the waiting room while Peter followed Isaac and a nurse, who had introduced herself as Melissa, back to an exam room. 

Melissa did some preliminary tests like taking his pulse and temperature, talking soothingly to Isaac the entire time, but Peter didn’t miss the way her eyes knowingly assessed Isaac’s injuries and flickered to Peter’s hands and knuckles.

“The doctor will be in shortly to exam him,” Melissa told Peter briskly as she entered some information into the computer.  Isaac was curled up in a ball on the hospital bed sleeping lightly, if his breathing was any indication.  Peter walked over and dragged the light hospital blanket bunched at the foot of the bed up and over Isaac’s legs.

He looked up to see Melissa watching him intently. 

“We’ve already notified the police,” she said.  Peter didn’t answer but did nod his head in acknowledgement.  “Are you family?”

“Close enough,” Peter replied.  “His father…he’s not a good man.  We had to get him out of there.”

Peter bowed his head and let one hand rest on Isaac’s legs over the blanket.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Melissa’s body language relax as she took in his concern.  When he looked back up her eyes were no longer guarded but were bordering on warm. 

“Has this happened before?”

“I think so, but Isaac was always very tight lipped about it.  My niece was with him tonight and witnessed what happened.  That’s when the kids called me.”

Melissa’s hand went to her neck and played with the small charm on a necklace she was wearing.  “Is your niece okay?”

“Physically, yes,” Peter said.  “Emotionally…” he trailed off.

Melissa nodded and stepped forward laying a gentle hand on his arm.  Peter looked down at it before looking up and meeting her eyes.  “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you,” she said.  “We have resources, names and numbers I can give you, which might help.”

Peter slowly reached out and grasped Melissa’s hand, holding it gently in his own, noticing the uptick in Melissa’s pulse underneath his fingers.  “Thank you,” he murmured.

Melissa slowly withdrew her hand from his and walked out of the exam room.  Peter watched her leave and when he turned back was startled to see Isaac awake and staring at him.

“I thought you were asleep,” he said.

“I’m good at pretending,” Isaac replied.

“That’s funny,” Peter said.  “I am too.” 

They were waiting for the results of the x-rays the doctor ordered for Isaac’s ribs when Melissa returned, trailed by a police officer.  Isaac sat up in the bed, crossing his legs and gently wrapping his arms around his waist as he curled into himself.

“Isaac?  I’m Deputy Stilinski.  I’d like to talk to you, if that would be okay?”

“Okay,” Isaac said softly. 

“Would it be okay if we talked alone?  Just the two of us?” Deputy Stilinski asked as he glanced at Peter.

Isaac looked over to Peter who nodded his head reassuringly.  “I’ll be in the waiting room.  I’m sure Melissa will let me know when you’re done talking to the deputy,” Peter said with a quick look to Melissa. 

“Of course,” she agreed.

Peter left Isaac’s room and walked down the hallway to the waiting room.  When he entered the room, he was surprised to see Laura sitting alone in an uncomfortable looking chair watching the comings and goings of the hallway and front desk.  There was only one other person in the waiting room - a man who was staring intently at the old re-run playing on the TV mounted on the wall.  The canned laugh track grated on Peter’s nerves immediately.

“What’s going on?” Laura asked as he dropped into the seat next to her.

“Deputy asked to speak to Isaac alone,” he replied.  He sniffed discreetly for Cora and Derek.  “Where are the kids?” Peter asked when he couldn’t locate them nearby.

“Outside so they can listen in on the police radio in the squad car.”

“Your idea?” Peter asked.

“Cora’s actually,” Laura replied.  Her mouth was pinched tight.

Peter didn’t bother to hide the swell of pride he felt at Cora’s ingenuity.

“You won’t look so proud when she’s locked up and you’re giving her cigarettes she can trade for cheeseburgers behind bars,” Laura said.

They sat in silence for a long time, like two parallel forces, staring straight ahead, not acknowledging one another.  Melissa stuck her head in the waiting room, and Peter straightened in his seat, but she wasn’t there for him.  She collected the other man who had been waiting and mouthed a silent, “Sorry,” to Peter as she left.

“Who’s that?” Laura asked.

“That’s Isaac’s nurse.  She said she’d come get me when the deputy was done talking to him.”

“She seems to like you,” Laura said.

“That’s because I’m likeable.”

Laura barked out a laugh that was a little too loud in the now empty waiting room.  “You’re many things Peter, but likeable is not the first thing that comes to mind.”  They lapsed back into silence as the sounds of the hospital competed with the re-run on TV.

Peter focused his attention on a custodian in dark brown scrubs who was busy mopping the hallway and emptying garbage.  His cart had a squeaky wheel and every time the custodian pushed it forward, Peter felt a stab of pain at the headache he could feel building behind his eyes.  The custodian stopped near the visitor bathrooms, on the opposite side of the waiting room, and Peter breathed a sigh of relief as he set the brake on his cart and entered the men’s room.

“You should have talked to us before going to Isaac’s father,” Laura said.

Peter looked at her, but she was still staring straight ahead as if she hadn’t even spoken.  He thought maybe he had imagined her comment until she turned to face him.  “It’s not that you attacked him, the bastard more than deserved it from what Cora and Derek tell me.  It’s that you did something that has repercussions for the pack without talking to us first.”

“The pack isn’t a democracy.”

“And you’re not Alpha,” Laura retorted.

“Neither are you,” he reminded her.  “Not yet.”

Laura faced forward again.  “Believe me, I am well aware of that,” she said.  “Even if this does work out through human law, have you thought about the other parts to this?  We’d have to tell him, there’s no way we can keep what we are secret.  What if he freaks out?”

“He won’t.”

“You can’t know that.”

Peter shifted in his seat so he was facing Laura.  “Isaac is loyal to a fault.  He won’t betray us, especially not Cora.”

“What if the hunters protest?  They’d be well within their rights to make a case for a broken treaty between the attack and us taking in Isaac.  Some of the…less stable…ones might see it as an act of aggression and kidnapping.”

Peter flashed back to his evening with Chris.  If he concentrated hard enough, he could faintly smell the other man on him below the layers of sweat and blood.  Would Chris blame him for the attack or understand it for what it was?  Peter wasn’t sure, and it made him uneasy.

Peter’s rebuttal was cut off by Cora and Derek hurrying down the hallway toward them. 

“What’s going on?” Laura asked. 

“Cops found Mr. Lahey.  We heard them say on the radio that he was ‘attacked by an animal’ and they’re bringing him here,” Cora replied.

A few minutes later, two officers and Lahey turned down the hallway and headed for the main ER desk to check in.  Peter’s wolf preened at the site of his handiwork.  He could still taste the warm copper of Lahey’s blood on his tongue as the fragile skin of the other man’s neck had given way.  Lahey was pressing a dirty blood-encrusted t-shirt against the wound.  It had staunched most of the blood flow although Peter could still smell a trickle of fresh blood.

His eyes remained fixed on his prey until a quick elbow to his side from Derek broke the spell.  He growled lowly at Derek in response and turned back to Lahey as the noise alerted the other man to his presence.  He could smell the fear rolling off Lahey in waves.  Peter watched in satisfaction as he took a step back to place himself behind the two officers so that they were between him and Peter.  Seconds later, Deputy Stilinski joined the group at the same time that Melissa stuck her head in the waiting room to collect Peter.

Peter stood up, making sure to pass as close to Lahey as he thought he could get away with.  Melissa turned back to see what was holding him up and her gaze darted speculatively between him and Lahey.  Peter plastered a worried look on his face and sped up his steps to catch up with her.

Back in the exam room, he learned from the doctor that the x-rays were negative for any broken bones, which was a relief.  As soon as the doctor left and Melissa excused herself to get the discharge paperwork together, Deputy Stilinski stepped back into the room.

“Mr. Hale, I’d like a moment of your time,” he said.

Peter followed the deputy out into the hallway.  He felt a stab of doubt that perhaps Lahey had told the police about Peter’s attack on him, but Deputy Stilinski dissuaded him of that line of thought by the tired, but relaxed, lines in his body.

“Normally in these circumstances we call the Department of Family Services to do an emergency placement unless we can locate family to take the child in temporarily while guardianship is worked out,” Deputy Stilinski explained.

Peter had hoped they’d be able to take Isaac home with them tonight, but judging by the deputy’s words, it wasn’t looking likely.

“I understand from Mr. Lahey that you are cousins with Isaac on his mother’s side?”

Peter kept his face expressionless to hide his surprise at the deputy’s question. “Of course,” Peter lied smoothly.

Deputy Stilinski stared shrewdly at Peter for a moment before nodding abruptly.  “That’s what I thought,” he said.  “Isaac has expressed a desire to go home with you, and barring the location of any other family members, which both Isaac and his father insist don’t exist, I can’t see why we shouldn’t grant his request.  The kid has been through enough already.  He needs to be somewhere he feels safe and with people he trusts.”  He opened his notebook and flipped to the back.  He extricated a card from the pocket and handed it across to Peter.

Peter accepted the card and saw the name and contact information for a family lawyer printed on it.  He looked up quizzically at Deputy Stilinski.

“She’s good, and she’s willing to work out payment arrangements for her services.”  The deputy paused for a second and seemed to be waffling before deciding to speak.  “The DFS and the courts, they’re going to need proof of relationship.”

“That’s not a problem.”

“Right,” the deputy said with a touch of disbelief.  “I’ll still have to call DFS, but that can wait until Monday.”

Peter nodded.

“Listen, I don’t know what really happened tonight.  I have a hard time believing that Lahey got drunk and passed out, only to wake up with a “rabid dog” attacking him in his own living room.”

So that was how Lahey was covering for the attack, Peter thought.

Deputy Stilinski continued, “However, I know enough to realize getting Isaac out of that situation is the most important priority right now.”  The deputy gave Peter a hard look before continuing.  “That doesn’t mean I condone anyone taking the law into their own hands or twisting it to suit their purposes.  Do you understand?”

“Perfectly,” Peter replied.

“Good,” the deputy said.  He grabbed another card out of his notebook and offered it to Peter.  “This is my card with my contact information.  We’re going to arrest Lahey and he’ll be in jail the rest of the weekend.  Earliest he can bail out is Monday.  If he gives you any problems after he’s out, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Thank you again,” Peter said as he shook Deputy Stilinski’s hand.  He tucked both cards into his jeans pocket and went back into the exam room to wait for Melissa to discharge Isaac so they could all go home together.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for description of child abuse

Isaac settled into their family almost seamlessly and the “werewolf conversation” they’d had a few weeks after he came to live with them went much smoother in hindsight than Peter would have imagined.

“Werewolves?” Isaac had asked as he looked around the room at each of them.  Cora was nodding her head with a half-worried and half-defiant look on her face.  Derek was leaning against the wall feigning boredom but holding his breath, and Laura was sitting next to Peter on the couch trying to project calmness as they awaited Isaac’s response.

“Yes,” Peter replied.

“That’s cool,” he said.  “So do you have claws like Wolverine?”

“No, you dork, we’re werewolves, not X-men,” Cora scoffed.

“Don’t call me a dork, dork.”

“Don’t act like one and I won’t.”

“Children,” Peter intervened.  “Isaac, we wanted to talk to you about this so you can make a decision about the guardianship case with full knowledge of the facts.”  He met Isaac’s eyes.  “If you don’t feel comfortable and don’t want to live with us, it’s okay.  You’ll always be welcome in our home.  But, we want you to make an informed decision before we proceed any further with the guardianship.”

Isaac shrugged as he looked down and twisted his hands together nervously.  “That doesn’t matter to me.”  He looked up at Peter with guileless blue eyes.  “I’ve lived with humans that have left me behind or hurt me.  None of you have ever done that.  I feel safe here with you.”  He paused before shyly adding, “I want to stay.”

“Then we want you here with us,” Peter said.  He felt everyone around him relax as the tension was released with Isaac’s easy acceptance.  He shot a triumphant look at Laura who stared impassively back at him.

“Welcome to Hale Pack, Isaac.”  Peter turned back to the boy, held out his hand, palm up, and waited for Isaac to place his on top.  Isaac’s palm was warm and a little sweaty when he set it on top of Peter’s.  Soon after Cora’s hand, then Derek’s joined them.  Finally Laura placed her hands on top and bottom of the pile. 

“Welcome to Hale Pack, Isaac Lahey,” she said and her eyes flared bright red.

Small adjustments had been made here and there.  A loft bed was added to the boys’ room for Isaac to sleep in.  Bathroom time became even more precious and food was stretched to accompany another hungry mouth.  Laura had made some noise about quitting school at the semester to come back home for good, but Peter and Derek had actually united for once to talk her out of it.  They still had just shy of two months before the semester ended, but Peter was hopeful they’d convince her to go back for winter semester after the holiday break.

Peter was hired on at the bar and was picking up shifts here and there as a bar-back, the extra cash helping cover the expense of the lawyer.  Derek was also working more, splitting time between the vet clinic where he helped Alan and a new job he picked up at a local warehouse loading and unloading trucks.  Even Cora and Isaac were pitching in by doing some dog walking and baby-sitting for some of the people in their apartment complex. 

Peter hadn’t seen Chris since the night at the bar.  When they’d all piled out of Laura’s car in the early morning hours after Isaac was released from the hospital, Peter’s car had been parked in the apartment lot.  The car door was unlocked and Peter found his keys under the front seat.  He’d checked, but there’d been no note or anything else to indicate who had brought his car home.  He’d brushed off Laura’s questions and just said it was a friend who had returned it.  Derek had looked at him askance but hadn’t said anything so Peter left it alone.

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

Peter jolted back into awareness of his surroundings and looked down at the jagged piece of notebook paper with Cora’s scrawled instructions written on it.  He looked from it to the woman standing with a clipboard just inside the Beacon Hills Middle School entrance. 

“Do you know which classroom you’re going to?” she asked. “If not, I can help you out.”

“No thank you,” he held up Cora’s instructions.  “I’ve got it.”

The woman tossed her long hair over her shoulder revealing a name tag.  “You came prepared.  I’m impressed,” she said. 

“Tell me, Kate,” he said, reading her name off the nametag.  “Are you one of the teachers?”

Kate smiled.  “I’m just a volunteer aide.  My niece goes to school here, and I like to help out in my free time.”

“That’s very generous of you,” Peter said.

Kate tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and laughed before leaning in close.  “I’ll tell you a secret,” she whispered in his ear conspiratorially.  “I like door duty because I get to check out all the hot dads as they come in.”  Kate leaned back and he watched as her eyes looked him up and down.

“Do I pass inspection?”

“Oh, you’re in a class all your own,” she said with a smirk.  Her eyes drifted down to his nametag.  “Peter Hale,” she added.

“Um, excuse me, I’m not sure where we’re supposed to go.  Do you know where the sixth grade science classrooms are at?” A young couple standing behind Peter interrupted.

“I can help you with that,” Kate told them without taking her eyes off Peter.  He stepped back to let the parents needing assistance step in closer.  He offered Kate a parting wave and walked down the hall towards the staircase that would take him up to the third floor.

He glanced at Cora’s instructions at the top of the stairs and was trying to decipher if she wrote right or left when he felt someone grab ahold of his elbow.  Peter pulled back instinctively, ready to fight if necessary, before realizing it was Chris.

“Christopher,” he said, ignoring the way his heart sped up in excitement at the proximity of the other man.

“What are you doing here?” Chris said around clenched teeth.

Peter looked at the tight lines of Chris’s angry face and felt some of his nervous excitement settle.  I guess we’re back to enemies, he thought.  Peter made a show of looking around the hallway.  There weren’t many other parents milling around up here yet, although he could see a couple outside one of the classrooms just down the hall.

“Well, Christopher, as you are no doubt aware, being a parent yourself, it is parent-teacher conferences.  As I’m a ‘parent’ per se, I’m here to talk about my children’s development with their teachers.”  He thought about shaking his elbow free of Chris’s grasp, but decided against it.  He liked the feeling of the other man’s fingers digging into his skin.  And, if he was reading Chris’s attitude correctly, it looked as if this was going to be the only way he’d be privy to that feeling from now on.

Peter could hear some people headed up the stairs behind them.  Chris apparently heard them too as he glanced over his shoulder towards the stairs before pulling Peter along with him to an empty resource room.  He closed the door behind them but didn’t turn on the light.  The far wall had windows with the shades open that captured the moonlight and illuminated the room well enough.

“You know Christopher, you don’t call, you don’t write.  I was starting to think you didn’t like me anymore,” Peter teased as he leaned back against one of the tables.

Chris gave him an unimpressed look.  “Knock it off.  I’m not in the mood for any of your games right now,” he said.

Peter straightened up.  “Well then, why did you drag me in here?”

“To warn you,” Chris said.  “Your little stunt with Lahey has drawn some attention.”

“From who?”

“Hunters.”

“Like you?” Peter asked. 

“Not just me, others.  Word has gotten around, and it’s bringing some unwanted attention to Beacon Hills right now.  So if I were you, I’d lay low for a while.”

Peter felt a burst of irritation.  “Lay low, huh?  That’s what you suggest.  And what do you mean by that exactly, I wonder?”  He circled around Chris who he noticed was careful to never have his back completely to Peter.

“I mean simply that, lay low.  And for god’s sake, don’t attack any more humans.”

Peter snarled and took a lazy swipe at Chris’s arm, never intending to make contact, and secretly thrilled when Chris batted his hand away and withdrew a silver knife, the blade glinting in the moonlight, from somewhere on his body.

“That human,” Peter spit the word out as if it were filthy, “deserved no more consideration from me than an ant on a sidewalk does from you.  He was excrement who got what he deserved.”

“And you’re the one qualified to make that determination?” Chris asked dryly.

“I’m the one allowed by the treaties to protect what is mine.”

“Isaac wasn’t yours at the time.  It was an act of aggression.”

“It was retribution, and my right to extract justice,” Peter rebutted.  “Beyond that, someone needed to step in and get Isaac out of that situation.  If not me, than who?  Or should I have just let it slide?  Turned a blind eye to a child, a human child, in need.  Is that what you would have me do?”

“You could have told someone, called the police.  Hell, you could have told me!” Chris shouted.  He paused, and Peter watched as he calmed himself before continuing.  “You didn’t need to go over there and attack him,” he said at a more normal volume.

Peter tilted his head in contemplation.  “You’re right,” he agreed.  “I didn’t need to go over there.”  He felt Chris relax minutely as he nodded along with Peter.  “No, I wanted to go over there,” he said with a sharp smile.  “I wanted to attack him.”  His eyes flashed and he felt his claws come out.  Chris tensed up slightly and backed up a step, his knife held in the ready position.  “It felt so good to go over there and scare Lahey.  To pin him against the wall with my claws,” he said as he held his clawed hand up to admire it.  “His terror was more delicious than the blood I tasted from his neck.”  Peter ran the tip of his tongue over one of his elongated canines.

Chris was staring at him with wide, cautious eyes, but there was no overt fear coming from him that Peter could sense.  Either he was good at hiding his feelings, or he wasn’t scared of Peter.  “I have a problem with your suggestion that I ‘lay low’, as you put it.  You see, earlier this year, my family was going about our business.  Many would say they were, in fact, ‘laying low’ as they went to work or school, and went about their daily lives.  There were no disturbances, no aggressive moves, certainly no attacks on humans.  And you know what happened?”

“Peter –“ Chris started but Peter cut him off.

“Someone piped in gaseous wolfsbane, incapacitated them, locked them in the house before dousing it with accelerant and burned them alive.”  Peter ticked each step off with his fingers.  He paused and looked at Chris.  “I’ve seen what ‘laying low’ gets you, so you’ll have to forgive me if I’m not particularly inclined to take your advice.”

Chris lowered the arm holding the knife but didn’t say anything.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go talk to my children’s teachers.”  Peter walked to the door.  He had just put his hand on the knob when Chris spoke.

“Don’t attack any more humans, and I’ll do my best to keep them away from you and your family,” Chris said.

“He hit his own son repeatedly and was dragging him across the floor to do god knows what to him.  My niece was terrified for her friend’s life and had to hit him with a baseball bat to get him to stop.  Lahey hit her so hard she fell down.” He paused and looked back over his shoulder at Chris standing in a circle of moonlight.  “By every treaty on the books, I had every right to kill him for harming a wolf pup.  I let him live.”  He shook his head.  “And you think I’m the monster.”

Chris didn’t say anything. 

“Keep the hunters away from my family, or I won’t be so generous with the next one’s life.”

Peter stepped through the door, tilted his head from side to side to crack his neck, and straightened his shirt cuffs before heading down the hall to talk progress reports.


	9. Chapter 9

Peter reached into his tool belt for the roll of masking tape he was using to hang plastic over the doorways at the latest job site.  He’d been assigned the demo work and was tasked with taking down a couple walls in an effort to open up the basement for a large walk-out family room.  David Whittemore, the newly elected District Attorney, was obviously wasting no time in doing a little home renovation post-election.

Through the gap at the top of the plastic that he hadn't taped yet, Peter saw the general contractor talking with some of the other sub-contractors.  He was half paying attention to the group while trying to pull some tape from the roll to secure the plastic.  A loud ringtone cut through the buzz of chatter, and the electrical sub stepped to the side to take a phone call.  When Peter looked back up, he froze at the unobstructed view he had of Chris Argent talking to the GC.  He fumbled with the tape and ended up bobbling it before it bounced off the wall, hit the ladder and clattered down to the floor.

“Shit,” he muttered.  Peter tried to get the half hung sheeting to stay in place before he hopped down the ladder to retrieve the roll.

“Need some help with that?”

Peter turned and was surprised to see a vaguely familiar looking woman standing behind him holding out the roll of tape he’d just dropped.

“You don’t remember me do you?” The woman asked with a mocking half-smile as he tried to place where he knew her from.  There was something familiar, but unsettling, about the woman and the way she looked at him.  Her look was both disdainful and knowing, and it made the hairs on the back of Peter’s neck stand up in warning.  Peter hoped he hadn't picked her up one night.  There were more than a few nights post-fire that were a blur of bodies and a haze of smoked wolfsbane as he tried to lose himself in anything other than his grief.

The woman moved forward and it took all of Peter’s strength to hold his ground and not back up as she advanced.  She stopped just out of arm’s length.  With her proximity, Peter was able to get a better read on her scent.  She had the familiar smell of a hunter and also something else, something he associated with Chris, but not.

“Figured it out yet, wolf?”

“Hunter,” Peter growled.

She laughed, deep and throaty, and tossed her hair back over her shoulder in a familiar move that struck up a wave of memories for Peter.

_”You came prepared.  I’m impressed.”_

_“And one time some lady came to pick her up.  I think she said it was her aunt.  She was really pretty and stuff but, man, I thought Allison smelled bad.  Ugh, she absolutely reeked.”_

_“Mom and daddy and grandpa and Aunt Kate.”_

“Kate,” Peter said.  “Kate Argent.”

“Well,” she practically purred.  “You really are as smart as they say.”  She took another step forward and held the roll of tape out to him again.

“What are you doing here?” Peter asked.

“I’m just here to do the job I was hired for.  You see, we run a security consulting firm.  We provide people,” she emphasized the last word, “with the security and peace of mind they need to live happy and safe lives.  It’s what you could call a family business. My brother and I learned all we know from our father and his father before him.  We’re the best there is.”

Peter felt his hackles rise at the thinly veiled threat in Kate’s words, but before he could reply, the plastic sheet half hanging over the doorway was pulled back.  Both the GC and Chris Argent stepped into the room with the latter pausing at the sight of Kate and Peter.

“Kate?” Chris asked with a question in his tone.

“I was just getting reacquainted with Peter,” she said as she stepped so close she was almost touching him.

Chris’s eyebrows rose.  “You've met before?”

“Just once.  It was very memorable for me, but it took Peter a few minutes to recall, didn't it sweetie?”  She laughed as she placed an unwanted hand on his forearm and trailed it up to his shoulder, squeezing tightly in warning.  “If I was a different kind of woman I’d be offended.”

Peter glanced between Chris and the GC who was smiling knowingly, probably under the misguided impression that he and Kate were former lovers.  Peter felt Chris’s blue gaze burning into him as he tried to hide the way Kate’s touch made his skin crawl.

Kate’s grip on his shoulder tightened for a second before loosening as she slowly slid the roll of tape into a pocket of his tool belt with her other hand.  “We should let Peter get back to work.” Kate trailed her fingers back down his shoulder and arm.  She turned her attention to the GC.  “Remind me, what were you thinking for the backyard?”

Kate and the GC started to talk motion sensor floodlights and glass break alarms as they moved towards the far end of the room, but Chris hung back.

“You know Kate?” Chris asked.

“We met the night of the parent teacher conferences.  She was volunteering,” Peter replied.  He tried not to feel relieved as he noticed the way the small crinkle in Chris’s forehead smoothed out at the innocuous explanation, but he couldn't help himself.

_Of course it doesn't matter.  He's your enemy_ , he tried to tell himself, but it wasn't sinking in.  Even with the creepy sister and the growing mountain of issues between them, Peter still found Chris attractive.  Peter shifted and hooked his thumbs into his tool belt.  He felt a flare of pleasure at Chris’s quick in-drawn breath.  It was barely audible, but he heard it and the ragged exhale that followed.

“Chris?” Kate called from across the room.  Peter could see her eyes darting between Chris and himself.  Her face tightened, and he had no doubt she was jumping to some pretty accurate conclusions.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” Chris said over his shoulder. 

He looked back at Peter and opened his mouth to stay something, but Peter beat him to it.  “Don’t,” he said.

Chris looked like he wanted to protest, but he stared at Peter for a few more seconds before slowly nodding his head.

Peter watched as Chris walked away.  He was turning back to finish his tape job when he felt someone watching him.  Assuming it was Chris, he glanced up and met Kate’s calculating gaze.  They stared at one another across the room before her attention was diverted by the GC pointing something out.

***

When Peter got home that night, Isaac and Cora were sprawled on the couch playing video games.

“You eat dinner yet?” Peter asked.

“No.  Derek’s still making it,” Cora answered.

“We were waiting for you,” Isaac added.

“Thanks.”  Peter ruffled the hair on top of Isaac’s head as he passed by.

“Suck up,” he heard Cora mutter as he entered the kitchen.

Derek was standing over the stove stirring some rice while the chicken thighs sizzled in the pan on the other burner.  Peter opened the fridge and grabbed the pitcher of iced tea, pouring himself a tall glass.  “How was your day,” he asked after he took a long drink.

“Fine,” Derek mumbled as he poked at the chicken with some tongs.

“Dinner smells good,” Peter said in an effort to draw Derek out.  It was hit and miss these days with his nephew.  He’d thought having Isaac around would help draw him out a little, but Derek was just as isolated and prickly as he’d been since the fire.  Some days were better than others, but almost all of them featured a grumpy Derek.  Peter grabbed a fork out of the drawer and struck quickly while Derek was checking the chicken, taking a forkful of the rice.  He laughingly dodged the hand Derek used to shoo him away.

When Peter tried to sneak back in for a second taste, Derek surged towards him, the tongs he’d been using on the chicken raised as a weapon.  Peter was elated as the chance to play presented itself.  He darted past Derek and ran out to the living room in the hopes the other wolf would take him up on his invitation to chase.

“Hey!” Cora shouted as he blocked her view of the TV screen.

Derek came barreling after him a moment later, and they stopped on opposite ends of the couch, each watching the other carefully.  Isaac and Cora paused their game to watch the standoff, Cora bouncing on the couch in glee.  It didn't take long before she broke the stalemate when she launched herself at Peter and shouted for Derek to make his move while she had him weighed down.  Derek lunged forward, only to be brought up short by Isaac hopping on his back in an effort to slow him down.

Peter reached out and grabbed Cora’s arms, tossing her gently onto the couch before grabbing a hold of her feet and tickling them mercilessly.

“Stop!” she shrieked in between wheezes from laughing so hard.

Peter laughed and mock growled as he felt Isaac climb on his back.  He hooked his arm under Isaac’s knee and grabbed a hold of the boy’s arm around his neck with his other hand.  He was about to wrestle Isaac off his back when Cora took advantage of his diverted attention and stepped in to tackle him about the knees.  Derek joined the pile a moment later as they dragged him down to the floor. What followed was several minutes of squeals and growls as the four wrestled, pinned and relentlessly tickled each other. 

Afterwards, they all lay in a panting mess of limbs.  Peter turned to look at Derek who had his face buried in Peter’s shoulder and was snuffling gently.  Peter's joy quickly turned to confusion as Derek took a deep breath and suddenly scrambled back with a look of frozen terror on his face.

“Derek?” Peter asked gently as he extricated himself for a now wary and quiet Isaac and Cora.

“Leave me alone,” Derek hissed.  His eyes were glowing blue as he stood up and stormed down the hallway to the bedroom.  He slammed and locked the door behind him.

Peter sighed and rubbed a hand down his face.  “Great,” he muttered.  He looked over at Cora and Isaac wearing twin expressions of disappointment.  Peter sighed and wished for the thousandth time he could understand what was going on with his nephew.

“Come on children,” he said.  “Let’s go eat dinner before it gets cold.”

Derek still hadn't left his room by the time Peter was getting ready to leave for Alan’s a few hours later.  Alan had called earlier in the week, saying he’d like to talk to Peter and Laura.  Peter had been dreading the conversation ever since the call came, but he knew it couldn't be put off much longer.  They were pretty much operating on borrowed time as it was.

“Derek?” Peter called through the locked door after knocking lightly.  There was no response.  “I’m going over to Alan’s for a little bit.  Can you keep an eye on Cora and Isaac?”

Peter strained to hear anything.  He could hear Derek’s elevated heart rate and attempts to regulate his breathing along with a gentle noise Peter had come to associate with Derek lifting free weights.  Peter stood there for another few minutes before giving up and heading back down the hall.

“I don’t think he’s going to come back out tonight,” Isaac said as he erased something from his homework.

“I’m sure he will once he knows I’m gone,” Peter assured him.  “Call me if you need anything.  I shouldn't be gone long,” he added.

Both kids nodded and waved at Peter as he closed the door behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

Peter prowled around the exam room.  Even under the industrial disinfectant that Alan’s tech, or more likely Derek, used, he could still smell the putrid smell of decay from the disease slowly eating away at the cat that had last been on the table closest to him.  Slow death had a unique stench that lingered and couldn’t truly be cleansed.  It was part of the reason he disliked meeting Alan at his clinic.  All he smelled when he was here was illness and death.  Peter couldn’t understand how Derek could work at the clinic part time.  He’d asked him once, but Derek had just shrugged and said it smelled like healing to him.

Peter forced his senses away from the repugnant scent and tried to focus on what Alan was saying.  It wasn’t outside the realm of believability, he understood that, but the sense of frustration he was feeling was like an unscratchable itch below his skin.  She hid it better than him, but Peter was fairly sure he could hear the welling frustration in Laura’s voice as well.

“So what you’re saying is that the specific brand of wolfsbane used is untraceable?”  Laura asked.

“Not untraceable, no, but it’s not something easily found either,” Alan clarified.

“Well if it’s rare, shouldn’t it be easier to track down?” Peter asked.

“Not necessarily.  They used a certain form of wolfsbane that in and of itself isn’t any rarer than your regular street grade, which, as you know, is fairly easy to find,” Alan said as he gave Peter a knowing look.  “What makes this different is they synthesized it and added something else, deriving an extremely potent paralyzing gas from it.  That kind of work takes a dedicated chemist.”

“Would it have taken large quantities?  Could we track it down that way?”  Peter thought of the couple of dealers he knew.  They were small time, but he was sure they could be a starting point to tracking down someone who would know about mass quantities of wolfsbane being bought.

“I’m not sure.  It’s definitely a possibility and an angle I haven’t explored yet,” Alan said.  “I’ve been working with my contact, trying to see if I could get any leads on chemists who would be able to create this.  I’ve got a few leads, but so far, digging into their backgrounds hasn’t turned up any connection to hunters or other werewolf packs.”

“You still think it was another pack?” Laura asked.

Peter watched the tense lines of Alan’s face.  After the fire, Peter and Laura had been completely convinced it was hunters who killed their family.  When he’d first woken up from his coma, after the external burns started healing, Peter had even tried to leave Alan’s with the mindset of killing every hunter in a ten mile radius.  He hadn’t gone far, collapsed just outside the back door in his weakened state.  Laura had helped him back to bed and curled up with him, mindful of the still healing burns, stroking the hair on the side of his head that wasn’t a mass of burned flesh, and trying to leech some of the agonizing pain from him.  He had been able to faintly sense Derek and Cora nearby but hadn’t understood until later, when he was more aware of his surroundings, that they were curled together, both in wolf form, and half hidden under his bed where they’d stayed for weeks.

After reading the official police report and examining the house himself, it was Alan who came to Peter and Laura and suggested they not rule out the fire being an act of aggression on behalf of another pack.  He was convinced it was intentional, but Alan also wasn’t ready to rule out a rival pack.  However, all efforts to track down the culprits to date had been vexingly unsuccessful with each lead they followed up on resulting in a dead end.

“I’ve got a small lead on a chemist who was based out of Oregon for about six months before the fire.  He’s apparently vanished since then.  I’m trying to track him down, but so far it’s proving to be difficult.”  Alan glanced between Peter and the phone sitting on the exam table with Laura on the other end.  “I do think we should follow up on your idea though Peter.” 

“I agree,” Laura said.  “Do you think you could check on any large purchases of wolfsbane in the months leading up to the fire?”

“I can ask around,” Peter said.

“And I’ll keep on the trail of the chemist,” Alan said.  “Laura, how are you doing tracking the movement of hunters?”

“I’ve got a few more excluded, but there are a couple that are extremely active and frequently move around.  It’s made determining their whereabouts at the time very difficult.  I volunteered to do some backlog cataloging with my internship at the police department which should give me some good access to the computers and databases.  I should probably have more the next time we talk, or at least have it narrowed down to a better group to focus on.”

“Good, we’ll touch base the next time we talk?” Alan asked.

Peter nodded and Laura murmured her agreement through the phone.

“Alright, I have a few more things for you two,” Alan said.  He reached out to grab a notebook and flipped through the pages.  “Before I forget, I’ve got the paperwork for Isaac in place.  It took a little more work that I was expecting to forge some birth and marriage certificates for his mother’s side of the family, but it’s done, backdated and filed so you shouldn’t have any issues with proving to the court that you are his family.”

Peter was relieved to have something finally go their way for once.  It wasn’t often that Alan was the bearer of good news lately.  “Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” Alan said.  “And that leads me to my next topic.”  He paused for a second before continuing.  “Have you two thought any more about the succession and who will be the next Alpha?”

Peter crossed his arms and glanced at the phone as if he could see Laura’s face through it, twin feelings of excitement and apprehension coursing through his body.

“Not really,” Laura started hesitantly.  “We’ve noticed that I’ve started developing some of the Alpha traits.”

“Like what?” Alan asked, leaning forward on the table and looking directly at the phone.

“The red eyes, being able to connect with other packmates and sense things about them, things like that,” she said.

Alan looked up at Peter and asked, “And you?  Have you experienced any of the traits?”

Peter straightened and started fiddling with an instrument on the counter next to him.  “Some intense feelings of protectiveness,” he admitted.

Alan nodded and made notes in his notebook.  “It’s not unexpected that both of you would feel the enhanced senses that precede the Alpha transformation in these circumstances.  As you know, Laura, you have the stronger claim on the Alpha rank by being Talia’s direct heir and directly descended from her mother and Alpha, Tania.”  Alan looked up and met Peter’s eyes.  “That’s not to mean you don’t also have a claim.  You may not be directly descended from Tania, but you also share the same matrilineal Alpha line with her through your own mother.”

Alan wasn’t sharing anything with them they didn’t already know.  Peter was well aware that as Talia, and therefore Tania’s, descendent, Laura had a direct line of succession.  Growing up, it was always Laura who was groomed to be Alpha.  She’d had an elevated status among all the cousins and extended pack as children that Peter frequently resented.  His resentment often manifested itself in teasing and tricks that got him scolded by Talia on more than one occasion.

Peter’s own mother was also Talia’s aunt.  After Tania’s death, Talia and her father had reacted to their grief in separate ways.  Talia had graciously accepted the mantle of Alpha after her mother’s passing and worked to keep the pack strong and, in time, to grow it.  Tania’s husband, unable to deal with being alone and bereft at being parted from his wife and Alpha, had done the next best thing and bedded her younger sister, Peter’s mother.  Peter was well aware that the timing of his birth and his mother’s marriage to their father was a little suspect.

“It appears that the strength of the emerging traits is also following the bloodlines,” Alan concluded.

Both Peter and Laura were silent so Alan continued.  “You can continue as you are, the yearlong mourning period guarantees you that, but make no mistake, you need to come to a decision, and the sooner the better.  You will have to assume the rank, Laura, the question is simply when you assume it.”  He looked up at Peter.  “And you have to decide if you’re going to challenge her claim.”

Peter met and held Alan’s stare.  He knew Alan would prefer Laura assume the mantle of Alpha and Peter not challenge the issue.  In the interest of pack harmony, it was probably for the best that Peter willingly step aside and give up his claim.  He knew all of this logically, it wasn’t his birthright, it never had been, but still there was a small part of him, spoiled and selfish, that felt like losing the Alpha rank would mean losing.  And Peter just wasn’t made to lose.

“We still have time,” Laura finally spoke.  “I think there is still enough unsettled business going on that to expect us to make this decision right now is unfair.  There is a year mourning period in place for a reason, and I think we should continue to take advantage of it.”

Alan opened his mouth to speak but was cut off as Laura continued, “We made the decision months ago to take the time and that decision has not changed,” she said in a firm tone.

“Very well.  I will respect your decision,” he demurred.  “But we do need to address another issue.”

“What’s that?” Peter asked, grateful to change the subject.

“There’s been an increase of supernatural occurrences in and around the vicinity of Beacon Hills.  Some of the old network is in place to keep it under wraps, but with a perceived power vacuum, there has been increased activity.  I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep it under the radar.”

“What do you suggest?” Laura asked.

Alan looked at Peter questioningly.  Being in the same room as him, Peter had the benefit of reading the other man’s suggestion on his face plain as day.

“He wants me to go hunting,” Peter said.


	11. Chapter 11

Peter stood silent and still, paying particular attention to the woods around him.  He could sense the fox family scratching around in its den.  He heard the loud squawking and chitters of the bird fighting with a squirrel, and he could smell the herd of deer rummaging for acorns near the copse of oak trees behind him.  The woods spoke to him, telling their story and sharing their secrets, like they had ever since he was a child.

Peter tilted his head and closed his human eyes, reaching out with his other senses.  The pleasure of the hunt was something he’d enjoyed ever since his father had first taken him to the woods as a child.  He liked the singular focus of stalking prey, the thrill of running it down, and the heady, triumphant rush as he captured his quarry.  But no matter how much he loved the hunt, absolutely nothing got his blood pumping like the feeling of power that coursed through him when holding a creature’s life in his hands.

He turned his head, scenting the air, attempting to recapture the scent he’d tracked to this part of the forest.  Alan had texted him earlier, while Peter was working at the bar, about a possible bugbear that was prowling around the new development on the outer edges of town preying on children and feeding on their terror.  Bugbears weren’t usually dangerous, more of a pest than anything, so Alan had just asked him to just chase it back into the depths of the forest.  Normally Peter would have killed the creature, but it had been a long night and he had to get up in a couple hours to work at the Whittemore job site.

Peter knelt down and ran his fingers over some crushed underbrush.  The bugbear had come this way, but it wasn’t alone.  Someone else was on its trail.  _Christopher_ , Peter thought with a warm curl of anticipation deep in his belly. 

Judging by the freshness of the trail, he wasn’t too far behind them.  Peter followed the marks of their path.  Chris was good, but even he left crushed brush or broken branches in his wake.  There was also his scent, which, now that Peter was keyed into it, was much easier to detect than that of the bugbear.  He loped up a steep embankment, still in his human form, feet and hands scrambling for purchase among the dry leaves and tree roots, letting the moonlight guide his path. 

As he crested the embankment, Peter could see Chris, crouched behind a massive fallen tree trunk.  He was using a rifle sight to follow the movements of the bugbear which was now half-buried in a berry bush, only its hind quarter visible and softly swaying, as the creature was busy eating what berries hadn’t been picked off by the birds and squirrels.

Peter wondered at his chances of sneaking up on a totally unaware Chris.  He took a cautious step forward, only to wince as he misstepped and broke a dried branch beneath his boot.  The resulting crack echoed through the trees.  Chris whipped around, gun pointed at Peter, at the same time the bugbear paused its berry raid and raised its head with a grunt.  The moonlight shone on its tusks, stained dark with berry juice, and its mouth which was dripping long strings of slobber as the creature turned around to survey the disturbance in its surroundings.

Chris lowered the gun and gave Peter a curt wave that really seemed more like an order than anything.  Peter tried to impress upon Chris that he couldn’t move with the bugbear still distracted from its feast and looking his way.  He widened his eyes and tried to nod his head at the creature without really moving his head and drawing attention to himself.  Chris widened his eyes and waved his hand again.  _Definitely an order_ , Peter thought.  Peter flicked his eyes back to the bugbear and watched as the creature sniffed the air some more before turning back to the bushes and burrowing deeper in search of more berries.

Peter hurried over to Chris’s hiding spot and crouched down next to him, resting his back to the trunk.  Chris turned back around and sighted the scope back on the bugbear.

“What are you doing here?” Chris whispered.

Peter glanced to the side, but Chris was steadfastly facing forward, one eye pressed to the scope.  As quietly as he could, Peter shifted so he was also facing the trunk and could peer up and over at the bugbear.  The move actually put him closer to Chris’s side, and when his skin rubbed against the soft, worn leather of Chris’s jacket, Peter felt a little thrill race up his arm.

Peter took advantage of Chris’s focus on the creature and leaned close so his mouth was directly next to Chris’s ear.  When he opened it to speak, his lips dragged against the shell of Chris’s ear.  The move made Peter’s lips tingle where they brushed against Chris’s skin.  It was obvious he wasn’t the only one affected either.  Peter watched in fascination as Chris’s hands gripped the rifle tighter, his knuckles whitening under the pressure.  “Same as you.  Flushing out a bugbear.”

He pulled back slightly and was surprised when Chris turned his head so that they were facing each other with little more than a hair breadths of space between them.  Chris had a brow arched, and his gazed traveled from Peter’s eyes down to his lips.  Peter sucked in a breath and cautiously wet his lips with his tongue.  Chris followed the movement with his eyes and moved infinitesimally closer.

But before their lips made contact, they were interrupted with an extremely close and extremely loud roar.  Peter whipped his head to the side to see the bugbear, which moments ago had been buried in the berry bush, almost on top of them, just on the other side of the fallen tree trunk.  It was intimidatingly tall, at least seven feet, as it stood on its hind legs.  There was also a full set of sharp teeth on display as the creature opened its mouth and let out another almighty roar.

“SHIIIIIT!” Peter yelled as he scrambled backwards.

Chris raised the rifle only to have the creature bat it out of his hands before he could fire off a shot.  Peter and Chris watched as the weapon flew against a nearby tree and smacked against the bark, the motion causing a round to go off and whiz by the top of Peter’s ear.

“You almost shot me!” Peter yelled at Chris with wide eyes while one hand strayed to his head to make sure the bullet hadn’t shorn off some of his hair.

“It wasn’t me, it was the bugbear!”

“You.  Almost.  Shot.  Me.”

“Can we argue about this later?  I think we have more important things to deal with at the moment.” Chris said with a pointed look at the creature only feet away from them.

“This isn’t over,” Peter warned.

“Of course not,” Chris muttered under his breath.  Peter glared at Chris to let him know his comment did not go unnoticed.  Chris simply rolled his eyes in response.

They turned to the bugbear which was now watching them with something that almost looked like curiosity on its face. 

“Any ideas?” Peter asked.

“Distract it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.  Just distract it for a moment.”

Peter moved back and to the side a little as he began growling in an attempt to draw the creature’s attention away from Chris.  His diversion worked as the bugbear leaped across the fallen trunk and started lumbering forward towards Peter, turning its back to Chris.  Peter continued growling and backing away, drawing the bugbear further away from Chris. 

“Anytime Christopher,” Peter called out in between growls.

As if on cue, the creature let out a short, loud roar and attempted to turn around.  Before the animal could complete the turn, it tripped over its own massive paws and swayed slightly before falling in a graceless lump onto the forest floor.  Peter looked up from the creature in confusion to see Chris holstering a mini cross bow.

“Tranquilizer,” he explained.

“Right,” Peter said.  “Of course.  Because who doesn’t carry around a miniature cross bow loaded with tranquilizer darts?”

Chris looked askance at him.  Between them the bugbear let out a belch and a deep sigh as its glassy eyes slid closed.  Peter toed at the creature’s leg, but it didn’t stir.

“What were you doing out here anyway?” Chris asked.

“Alan called me and asked me to scare off a bugbear that was seen hanging around the outskirts of town,” Peter said.

“I didn’t realize you did that,” Chris said as he walked around the bugbear, eyeing it up from multiple angles.

“Did what?” Peter asked as he watched Chris continue to assess the creature.

Chris looked up, a lot closer to Peter than he was a minute ago.  “Hunted supernatural creatures,” he said.

“This is Hale territory, which means we protect it and we defend it.  It’s been that way for generations.”  He watched as Chris pulled a tape measure out of one of the pockets of his utility pants and started measuring the creature.  His curiosity finally got the better of him.  “What are you doing?  Trying to see if its pelt will fit in the great room at the hunter’s clubhouse?”

Chris rolled his eyes and let the tape measure roll back with an audible snap.  “I’m trying to get an idea of how big it is so I can figure out the best way to move it.”  He stood up and moved past Peter to measure one of the legs.  “Unless you just want to leave it here, this close to town and all.”

“No,” Peter said.  “But how are we going to move it deeper into the forest?  It’s massive.” He lifted one of the paws before letting it drop back to the forest floor with a muffled thump.

“I have an idea,” Chris said.

Chris’s idea involved fashioning a sled of sorts with branches and a tarp he happened to conveniently have in his backpack.  After the sled was assembled and the bugbear rolled onto it, they’d dragged it deeper into the forest and deposited the slumbering creature near some caves.  All in all it took several hours of their time, and while Peter would never admit it out loud, he hadn’t exactly minded the time spent in Chris’s company.

So, when Peter found himself running from a rampaging ahool a week later, he was more than a little grateful to look up at the sound of a sharp whistle and see Chris, standing tall with his crossbow loaded and taking aim at the giant bat-like creature that was trying to kill him.  Of course, he returned the favor by rescuing Chris from the pooka who had captured him.  This continued off and on over the next couple weeks.  Inevitably, they’d run into one another while on the trail of the latest supernatural threat to Beacon Hills and work together to neutralize it before going their separate ways.

They saw each other regularly at the Whittemore job site, but there was never any talk about their regular nocturnal meet-ups, which was why Peter was mildly surprised the night he walked out of the bar, after finishing his shift, to see Chris’s big black truck parked next to his car in the parking lot.  Chris was leaning against the truck, arms crossed over his chest in a way that looked casual, and yet, Peter could see the tension in Chris’s face and the lines of his body. 

“Come on,” Chris called as he straightened up.  “I’ve got a bead on the gazeka, but I need your help tracking it.”

Peter stayed where he was, watching Chris open the driver’s side door and climb up in the truck.  His first instinct had been to follow, but something held him back.  This was completely different than just running into one another on the shared trail of a creature.  This felt deliberate, and it gave Peter pause. 

He felt Chris’s eyes on him through the windshield.  Chris’s expression was blank, but his eyes were piercing.  Peter felt his car keys in his pocket and glanced at his empty car.  He could get in and drive off.  He’d still run into Chris: on hunts, at the Whittemore job site, around town, but that’s all it would ever be.  A series of meetings that were left up to fate and happenstance. 

Peter looked towards the truck and met Chris’s stare head on.  He withdrew his hand from his pocket, keys clutched in his sweaty grip.  He saw the disappointment flash across Chris’s face before it was quickly hidden as Peter unlocked his car.  He opened the door then tossed his keys inside, under the seat, and quickly shut the door before he could change his mind.  Peter could sense the tension surrounding Chris rapidly easing as he stepped up into the passenger side of Chris’s truck.

“Ready?” Chris asked.

Peter nodded.  


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay. I had to take a personal hiatus for a few months.

Peter felt an itch between his shoulder blades, a little germ of awareness that someone was staring at him as he hung new drywall in the Whittemore basement.  He assumed it was Chris, and the idea made his insides warm a little, but when he turned around it was Kate’s intense gaze he met.  Peter sent her a mocking salute and was rewarded when her face tightened into a glare.  Their eyes remained deadlocked on one another for several seconds until Peter’s attention was drawn back to the drywall by the rest of the work crew.

Peter felt that same awareness wash over him again as he stood on one side of the school gym.  He was manning the bean bag toss for Cora and Isaac’s school carnival but in reality had spent more time keeping an eye on Chris who was at the football toss station across the way.  The same prickling itch he’d felt at the Whittemore site made itself known as he was trying to encourage a small, asthmatic boy and his hyperactive friend to toss brightly colored bean bags through the lion’s body painted on the board.

Peter glanced up and met Kate Argent’s hostile glare across a scattered sea of children, teachers and parents.  Peter could feel the wolf call under his skin and fought the urge to bare his teeth and growl in response.  Thankfully he was distracted by the two kids at his station who were now trying to use a makeshift slingshot to launch the bean bags.

“Let’s not and say we did,” Peter said as he cupped a hand across the bean bag they’d pulled back into a large rubber band they’d found somewhere.  Their faces were crestfallen so Peter cheered them up by letting them pick a prize each from the top prize bucket.  _Sometimes ingenuity has to be rewarded_ , he thought as the kids hurried off to the next station.

Peter continued to feel that awareness he’d come to associate directly with Kate Argent as he went about his life.  He felt it in the store as he took Isaac for new shoes, but when he looked around he didn’t see her and a few discreet sniffs of the air didn’t turn up her scent either.  He brushed it off as a mistake, but later than same night, he felt the same prickling sensation of awareness with a hint of danger as he was walking through the woods with Chris while they kept an eye out for the latest supernatural threat to Beacon Hills.

“What has you so on edge?” Chris asked.

“What?” Peter asked distractedly before Chris’s words fully registered.  “Oh, nothing.  I just thought I smelled something rotten.”  He pitched his voice so it carried and was rewarded with a barely noticeable rustling of underbrush, confirming his suspicion.

Chris looked askance at him, but didn’t pry.  Peter could tell Chris was curious judging by the looks he kept sending Peter’s way the rest of their trek through the woods.

Back at their vehicles a few hours later, Peter stifled a huge yawn.  The exhaustion he felt was so deep he swore he felt it in the fibers of his muscles.  It was the result of too many days stretched too thin between working multiple jobs, his family, the children and this partnership of a sorts with Chris.

“Are you even okay to drive?”

Peter dropped his fist and turned tired eyes on a concerned looking Chris.  “Worried for me Christopher?  How touching.”

“Only that I’ll lose someone who can hold up their end of a fight if you doze off and fall asleep behind the wheel,” Chris retorted.

“There’s no need to worry.  Some uppers washed down with Red Bull and I’ll be fine,” Peter waved his hand dismissively only to have his wrist caught in Chris’s grip.  The other man used his strength to tug him forward.  Peter lost his footing and stumbled into Chris’s chest before recovering and pasting a fake smile on his mouth.  “Not tonight dear, I’m exhausted.”

Chris’s mouth tightened into a frown as he searched Peter’s face.  “Get some sleep,” he said gruffly as he dropped Peter’s wrist but didn’t step back.  “I don’t need to get injured because you can’t focus enough to help in a fight.”

The exhaustion he felt was undercut with a wave of irritation directed at Chris.  “I’m not the one likely to be outmatched in a fight.”

“Really?  If we were to go right now, I guarantee you it would take me less than ten minutes to have you subdued.”

“Prove it,” Peter hissed as he shoved Chris’s body back and dropped down to knock his feet out from under him.

Chris recovered quickly from Peter’s attempt to trip him up with only a slight stumble before reaching down and grabbing a hold of the shoulders of Peter’s jacket.  Peter felt himself lifted to his feet and blocked the jab Chris aimed for his stomach.  He countered with a punch of his own that glanced off Chris’s forearm.  They attacked, blocked and counter attacked and while Peter was keeping up with Chris, that was the problem.  He should easily be able to lay waste to Chris, and at most other times, he would have been able to do so but his weakened state was making itself obvious to him as well as Chris.

Peter miscalculated a block and found himself pinned beneath a grimly victorious Chris on the forest floor.  They were both breathing heavy and Chris had a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth where Peter had landed a hit.  He could feel a cut and bruise blossoming over his own eye, but Peter wasn’t worried.  It would be healed within a day.  What he was more focused on was the feel of Chris resting atop him, the other man’s knees bracketing his hips.  Peter liked the feeling of the other man’s weight on him, holding him down, and he felt the beginning stirrings of want racing through his blood.

Chris’s eyes darkened as they swept over Peter’s face and upper body.  “Christ,” he whispered before leaning down and pressing his lips roughly over Peter’s.

Peter groaned at the feeling of Chris’s lips against him.  He opened his mouth to deepen the kiss and felt a heady rush as he tasted the faint tang of Chris’s blood on his tongue.  They stayed locked together, kisses feverish and intense, pausing to take deep gulping breaths before being drawn back together again and again.

Chris moaned as Peter trailed a line of kisses from his mouth down his jawline and behind his ear.  He bit down on Chris’s earlobe and flicked his tongue across the nub trapped in his mouth.  His hands worked their way under Chris’s jacket and layers of shirts to the warm skin underneath.  Chris drew in a sharp breath and rested his forehead against Peter’s as Peter’s fingers pressed against a sore spot on Chris’s ribs.  Peter smirked and pressed a little harder on that same spot.  Chris let out a little moan and dropped his head down, running his tongue down the line of Peter’s throat before biting hard at his collarbone.  Peter squirmed in response to the twin feelings of pain and pleasure and was rewarded with Chris pinning his hips down tightly with Chris’s own.

Peter widened his legs so that Chris slotted just right for maximum friction.  Peter’s fingers ran across one of Chris’s hardened nipples and he was rewarded with Chris rutting forward into him, the friction sending currents of pleasure buzzing through his body.

Chris pressed their mouths together again with a bruising intensity that Peter craved.  Chris reached down and pulled Peter’s hands from beneath his clothes before pinning them above Peter’s head on the forest floor.  Peter was now stretched out below Chris, completely held captive by Chris’s hands, mouth, and hips, and it felt perfect. 

Chris pulled back slowly and nuzzled his mouth against Peter’s ear.  “I told you it would take less than ten minutes to subdue you,” Chris whispered.

Peter felt a wave of cold reality rush through his body in place of desire.  He laid completely still as Chris pulled back and stood up, casually knocking brush and leaves off his jacket and pants.  Peter’s breaths were shallow as he tried to control the twin feelings of fury and humiliation that were currently fighting for dominance in his brain.  He ignored Chris’s offer of a hand up and stood up on his own, hiding himself from Chris’s gaze as he brushed himself off.

“Oh, don’t pout Peter,” Chris said as he leaned in close to help pick some twigs out of Peter’s hair.  “It was a bet, you never specified terms.”

Peter looked up and met Chris’s eyes.  “You’re right,” he agreed simply with a careless appearing shrug.  He wanted to study Chris, to see if he was as unaffected by their encounter as he sounded, but doing so meant he’d have to face Chris, and Peter felt just a little too raw for that at the moment.  Peter fished his car keys out of his pocket.  “I’ve got to go,” he said with a jerk of his head towards his car.

Chris was silent but watching him carefully, apparently having decided that Peter’s quiet acceptance of his defeat was something to be wary of.  Peter’s swollen lips stretched over his teeth in a fake grin that was probably more grimace as he climbed into his car.  Peter started up his car and pulled away keeping an eye on Chris in the rear view mirror.  For his part, Chris stood his ground but as Peter started driving off he began digging through his pockets for his own keys.  The last Peter saw of Chris was the scowl directed his way through the rear view mirror as Chris realized his own keys weren’t in his pocket where he’d left them. 

Peter ignored his cell phone when it rang a moment later choosing instead to twirl the appropriated set of keys around his finger as he whistled a jaunty tune.

***

At the Whittemore job site the next day, it was about mid-morning when Peter looked up from where he was mudding drywall at the familiar feeling of Chris’s presence.  He wasn’t alone though, Kate was trailing along behind her brother and glaring venomously at Peter.  Chris also glared at Peter, but his glare was filled with a lot less venom and more irritation.  Chris and Kate talked quietly amongst themselves as the two Argents worked their way through the new family room presumably sketching out designs for Whittemore’s new security system.

Peter caught several glimpses of Chris that day as he went about his work, but they were always surrounded by the others on Peter’s work crew or Kate so other than a few pointed looks tossed back and forth, they didn’t exchange any words.

It wasn’t until Peter ran out to the work van to grab some more supplies that Chris caught him alone.  He was grabbing the right grit of sand paper and they needed to sand down the dried mud when he heard footsteps behind him.  He straightened up and relaxed slightly to find it was Chris and not Kate.

“Christopher,” he said as he turned back to rummage through the toolbox holding the extra sanders and sand paper.

Chris gripped his bicep and pulled him back, shoving him up against the open van door and stepping into his space.

“I want my keys back,” he said.

Peter traced his eyes over Chris’s tight face and felt a swell of pride at the anger and irritation he saw there.  _Good,_ he thought.  It didn’t come close to equaling out to retribution for what Chris made him feel last night, but it felt good knowing he was able to rattle Chris and get under his skin.  That was knowledge he could work with.

Peter smirked and leaned back against the door, jutting his hips forward.  “They’re in my pocket,” he said playfully.

Chris’s jaw tightened.  “Get them out,” he said.

“No.  You want them?  You come get them.”

“Is everything a game to you?”

Peter lazily shrugged his shoulder.  “Yes,” he said and flexed his hips.

Chris stepped forward and placed his arm above Peter’s head, bracing it on the van door as his other arm moved forward, his hand skimming down Peter’s side.

Peter tried to hide the shudder the feeling evoked in him, but judging by the mocking look on Chris’s face he was unsuccessful.  Chris’s hand slid forward, down over Peter’s stomach and rested on the waist of his pants.  Peter searched Chris’s face and was gratified to note the heightened color in the other man’s cheeks as his hand strayed below Peter’s belt, skimming to the side of his pelvis.  He cupped his hand around Peter’s right pocket and felt nothing there.  Peter sucked in a breath as Chris’s hand ghosted over him on the way to his left pocket.

“I thought you said they were in your pocket,” Chris said.  The frown on his face creating a crease between his eyebrows.

“Silly me,” Peter said.  “I must have left them in my other pants.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“You like it.”

 “God help me,” Chris muttered.

They were interrupted by the sound of a throat clearing.  Chris moved back and turned around in one seamless move.  Peter looked over his shoulder and saw Kate standing there.  She quickly smoothed her face into a bland, almost bored look, but her body language telegraphed what she was feeling very clearly.

“I’m ready to leave,” she said curtly.

“I’ll be right there,” Chris replied.

“But –“, she started before being cut off by Chris.

“I said I’ll be right there Katie.”

Chris turned back around to face Peter who watched Kate linger for a second, the bland mask falling from her face now that Chris wasn’t watching before she turned on her heel and stalked off.  Peter watched her go from over Chris’s shoulder before refocusing his attention on the man before him.

“You have 12 hours to get my keys back to me,” Chris said.

“Or what?” was Peter’s mulish answer.

“I will walk into your home and tear the place apart until I find them,” he said casually.

Peter growled at the threat to breach his pack’s sanctuary.  The very idea of a hunter roaming through their space, uninvited, made his skin crawl, even if it was Chris.  He gritted his teeth and ground out, “Fine.”

Chris nodded and turned to leave.  He was a few steps beyond the van before he stopped and turned back.  “I already changed the locks on the house, so they’re useless to you anyway.”

“Well, there goes my plan of surprising you with a present.”

Chris raised an eyebrow.  “Oh yeah? Was I going to wake up in bed next to a severed horse head?”

“Hardly,” Peter scoffed.  “If I was going to leave anything in your bed it would be me wearing a bow.  And only that.”

Chris’s eyes went comically wide for a second.  Peter grinned before continuing.  “But I guess that will never happen now.”  He took in Chris’s expression and lazily trailed his eyes up and down the other man’s body.  “Pity,” he said.  “What little I got to feel last night was…well, let’s just say, I wouldn’t mind having all of it.”

Peter grabbed the extra sandpaper he needed and sauntered away leaving Chris standing motionless behind him.

***

From the attention Kate had been giving him lately, Peter wasn’t necessarily surprised to find her at the bar a few nights later.  He spotted her in the corner just after he clocked in.  She was sipping a beer and watching him intently.  He could feel her eyes on him all night as he bussed tables, restocked glasses from the kitchen, carried up cases of beer from the basement and darted back to tap new kegs as the old ones ran dry.

“Your lady friend is quite the looker,” the bartender said with a nod in Kate’s direction.

“More like a bunny boiler,” Peter muttered as he filled the cooler with bottles of Bud and Bud Light.

Kate disappeared at last call leaving behind a decent enough tip and an empty beer bottle, but Peter was wary enough not to trust that she was too far away.  When it came time to take out the garbage he took a cautious step outside the back door.  He scanned the area but didn’t see her.  He was tossing the first of two heavy bags into the dumpster when the breeze picked up and he caught scent of her.  Peter froze and turned in her direction, scanning around the junk piled up in the space behind the bar.  His heart sped up and he almost jumped at a loud sound behind him before he realized it was one of the servers carrying the last bag of garbage out.  They’d pushed the door open and it had banged back against the wall.  Peter could feel Kate’s mocking amusement, even if he couldn’t see or hear it.  It was obvious she was watching and it was unnerving.  There was something about the woman, a fanatical edge to her hatred, that was different from her brother, and it made him extremely un-easy.

Later that night, Peter discreetly checked under his car and in his backseat before getting in, but there was still no sign of Kate.  He let out a small sigh of relief and wondered if he was over reacting a little to the perceived threat.  She may give off bad vibes, but she was still Chris’s sister.  Certainly Chris would be able to keep her in line wouldn’t he?  Peter put thoughts of Kate out of his mind as he rolled down the window and sang along to an old song on the radio.  He felt himself start to unwind from the long day.

His sense of ease didn’t last very long as he sat at a stoplight just a few miles from home.  The road was largely deserted which was why he noticed immediately when a car, sitting a little higher than his, pulled up almost right on his rear bumper.  The lights of the other car hit his rearview mirror at just the right angle to impair his vision.  Peter felt the tenseness return and curled his fingers around the steering wheel.  The light turned green and he started forward like normal.  The other car kept up with him, pulling close to his rear bumper before falling back then accelerating quickly.  Peter kept his attention divided between the quiet road in front of him and the vehicle at his bumper while he tried to figure out what to do.

He signaled and switched lanes, only to have the other car switch lanes behind him.  He slowed down and sped up in turn, each time the other car did the same.  The turn for his neighborhood was coming up so Peter flipped on his turn signal and began slowing down.  The other car was so close on his bumper, Peter felt like they were probably within millimeters of touching.  Suddenly the other vehicle careened around him and accelerated.  They slowed down as they went by and Peter got a glimpse of a car full of high school kids jeering him and tossing beer cans out the window as they sped off down the road.

Peter let out a sigh of relief as he made the turn and navigated through the neighborhood to his apartment complex.  _Just a bunch of jerks out for a joyride,_ he thought.  Peter relaxed his white knuckle grip on the steering wheel and chuckled to himself at how keyed up he was from a bunch of teenagers.  He swung into the complex parking lot and felt the last of his chuckles die in his throat as his headlights cut through the darkness to reveal Kate standing in his empty, assigned parking space.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Below is the scene that picks up exactly where the last chapter ended. 
> 
> Afterwards is the outline of what I had plotted out for the rest of the story.

“Stay away from my brother,” Kate said without any preamble as Peter stepped out of his car. 

“Hello to you too, Kate.” Peter leaned back against the closed car door behind him.

Kate was bathed in partial light from the lone light pole in the parking lot that wasn’t burnt out. It cast her features into a weird sort of yellowish hue that only enhanced the malice radiating from her.

“I’m not going to warn you again. Stay away from my brother or you won’t like the consequences, I can guarantee that,” she said. A sickening smile stretched across her lips as she pulled her hand out of her pocket and revealed a silver lighter. She watched him intently as she deliberately flicked the lighter on and off.

Even from this distance, Peter could feel the vibration of the silver and the miniscule heat of the small flame amplified as if he was standing in front of a roaring bonfire. His eyes darted to the apartment building behind him. A bead of sweat trailed down his back, between his shoulder blades as he broke out in a cold sweat. Peter schooled his features to remain impassive. He wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d rattled him.

Kate snapped the cover on the lighter and took a slow step forward and another until she was directly in front of him. The toes of her boots were touching his own shoes and if he’d breathed deeply, Peter was sure their chests would have brushed.

“I can see the appeal,” she whispered. “If you weren’t a filthy animal, I’d take a ride.”

Peter couldn’t help but flinch as he felt the hot silver of the lighter pressed into his forearm. The pain of the burn was nothing compared to the smell of burning flesh that immediately brought him back to the day of the fire. 

Peter wasn’t sure how long Kate stood there, laughing. He was stuck, unable to move, mentally trapped by heat and flames and the rancid smell of burning flesh. He dropped to his knees, trying to escape, but he could still feel the heat and hear the screams of Talia, of his pack.

“Peter?” 

A cool hand cut through the heat and grasped his shoulder, a comforting contrast to the pain and fear wracking his body.

“Peter? Are you okay?”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know. Can you grab his other arm? Let’s get him inside.”

“Where’s your brother? Can he help?”

Peter pushed forward, through the memories clouding him, and found himself crouched next to his car. Cora and Isaac were crouched in front of him, pale faces full of concern and worry. At Isaac’s feet, the wood baseball bat lay on the dirty asphalt.

Peter swallowed the metallic taste in his mouth and sat back.

“Where’d she go?”

Cora looked at him confused. “Where’d who go?”

“K-,” he cut himself off before he could fully say her name. “You didn’t see anyone here?”

“No, you were late coming home, and we tried calling but you didn’t answer.”

“And I looked outside and saw your car here, so we decided to come check it out,” Isaac added.

Peter tried to get a gasp on all that had happened but his thoughts kept racing just a step or two out of his reach. He looked around but the parking lot was empty, save for the three of them, the baseball bat and a few rows of cars.

***  
Peter didn’t see or hear anything from Kate after the confrontation in the parking lot. She was absent from the Whittemore job site, and she didn’t seem to be lurking around the bar either. The first few days Peter kept his guard up but after the fifth day without even the phantom feel of her eyes on him, he’d finally started to relax minutely and not keep his head on what felt like a swivel.

He’d tried to keep the information from Laura but all it took was an email from Cora to Laura about a day after his confrontation with Kate in the parking lot and he was the recipient of a very angry phone call. 

“What happened in the parking lot the other night, Peter?”

Peter sighed and rubbed his hand over his face while letting out a loud breath. “It was nothing, Laura.”

“Interesting, because that’s not the impression I got from Cora.”

“She’s a kid, she misunderstood.”

“Was it Lahey?”

“No.”

“Then who was it?”

“No one, Laura. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Goddammit, Peter. Why do you have to be so difficult?”

“I’m just going to assume that’s rhetorical.”

Laura huffed out a sound that was equal parts laugh and irritation. “My last class is Tuesday morning, “ she said, apparently changing the subject. “I’m going to finish up a group project and then hit the road a little after lunch. Alan wants to meet with us that evening. Are you free?”

Peter thought ahead to his work schedule at the bar. He had a closing shift that Wednesday. “I have to be to work at 9 but can meet before.”

“Good.” There was an awkward pause before she continued. “He’s going to ask about Alpha.”

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes.” He knew what she was looking for. She wanted him to actually verbalize whether he was going to contest her claim. He shouldn’t. He knew that logically. Their pack, their family was splintered and ragged enough as it was, but the part of him, the smallest, most internal, most selfish part of him, wasn’t ready to let go and step aside just yet. Laura, who probably knew him better than any other soul on Earth, had to know that.

“Right,” she said after he declined to say more. “So I’ll see you next week.”

***

Outline Summary:

Peter doesn’t see or hear anything from Kate or Chris, for that matter, over the course of the next week. Laura comes home to be with pack and to touch base with Deaton and Peter.

Peter is at work at the bar while Laura spends time with Derek and the kids. He’s attacked after closing by a small group of people, possibly hunters, but Chris, who was coming by about a hunt, intervenes and the group scatters. The group, which includes an enraged Mr. Lahey, was put together and sent by Kate. They were armed with wolfsbane laced weapons and silver to maximize injury. 

Peter is in fairly rough shape but doesn’t want to go home so he asks Chris to take him someplace safe. Chris decides to take him home because Kate is out of town with Allison (her alibi for the attack she orchestrated). Chris cleans Peter up and they make out.

The next day Chris brings a mostly healed Peter home. Laura and Derek observe that it’s a hunter and an Argent and confront Peter. Derek is extremely upset, even more so than Laura, and storms off in a way that confuses both Laura and Peter.

Laura tells Peter she’s going to accept the Alpha mantle and asks him to support her. He is upset, partially because he’s not ready to give up idea of being Alpha. There is also a part of him that loves his niece and wants her to finish school and be as normal as possible before having to deal with being head of Hale pack because he knows that once she accepts that role the only way out is death.

Peter refuses to accept Laura’s decision and they part on bad terms.

Chris starts shadowing Peter at his job at the bar and keeping an eye on him which confuses Peter. All (Peter, Chris, Deaton, Laura) notice that there are more hunters in and around town drawn to the increase in supernatural activity due to the Hale pack holding pattern until an Alpha is named.

Chris asks Peter to help him out with a supernatural attack that quickly gets out of hand between the creature and the trigger happy hunters that have flocked to town. A conversation with Chris about the power vacuum prompts Peter to give Laura his blessing to assume the Alpha role and he declares to set aside any claim he might have in the interest of keeping the Hale pack as strong, united, and whole as possible.

Laura officially takes on the role. Several wolves, Alphas, and emissaries arrive in Beacon Hills to pay their respects to Laura, Deucalion among them. While Peter has stepped aside, he’s still a little jealous and Deucalion notices that and starts paying attention to Peter and helping to feed that feeling of jealousy and discord. 

Peter is drawn to Deucalion to Chris’ dismay. Chris warns Peter away from Deucalion out of part-jealousy, part seeing through Deucalion’s motives. This alienates Peter.  
Deucalion makes a power play against what he thinks is a weaker, inexperienced Alpha, but Laura prevails with the help of a betrayed Peter who throws his lot in with the winning side which also happens to be his family pack.

Derek, Laura, and Peter are all adjusting to their new relationship and roles and how they fit with one another. As a result Derek opens up to Peter. While he doesn’t come right out and say anything about Kate, but Peter starts to put the pieces together.

Peter, Laura, and Alan meet and put together the information they’ve found about the murder investigation. Between Laura’s leads when she was interning at PD, Peter’s new info from Derek, and some links Deaton was able to make, they realize that Kate is involved somehow and that Derek knows more than he’s sharing.

Derek is confronted and confesses to the relationship with Kate and what he knows of her actions.

Peter is absolutely enraged and storms off to the Argent home while Laura tries to console Derek. Kate isn’t there but there’s a huge confrontation between Chris and Peter while Peter questions if Chris is involved. Chris is shocked at the accusations, angry and hurt that Peter would suspect him, and furious with Kate. Their verbal fight turns physical before devolving into hatesex. Afterwards they are both exhausted, physically, mentally and emotionally. Chris invites Peter to stay the night. They make love in the early morning hours and when Chris wakes up again Peter is gone. However, before he left, Peter drew a retribution symbol on the Argent’s front door which effectively declares war.

Laura is upset for Derek but also furious with Peter for declaring war against the Argents/hunters without talking to her. Derek is miserable and wracked with guilt. He disappears during Laura and Peter’s confrontation. He decides he’s going to confront Kate about what she’s done.

Kate puts herself in Derek’s path for the confrontation and ends up taking him. Laura and Peter realize he’s missing and with the kids they search for him. They finally realize he’s with Kate or been taken by her. Laura goes to Chris to see if he can return Derek unharmed or she will follow through with Peter’s declaration.

Chris teams up with Laura and Peter and along with Deaton they find Kate and Derek.

Kate has been working with some rogue hunters as well as some locals she’s recruited to her side like Mr. Lahey. Chris is confronted with the reality of Kate’s zealotry and what she’s done and is horrified. He tries to reason with her but its useless. In the ensuing confrontation he fights alongside Laura and Peter.

They free Derek. During the confrontation, Kate is killed by Laura and Laura is mortally wounded. Laura realizes that she’s not going to survive and looks to a scared and hurt Derek. She realizes if she dies he becomes Alpha and it’s not something he’s strong enough for after Kate and everything else. Laura begs Peter to kill her so he will become Alpha to spare Derek because he isn’t ready.

Peter is stuck. Laura is asking him for this, Derek will hate him, Chris seems to understand, and Deaton is silent. He has only moments to decide as Laura is fading quickly. Derek is panicking and begging him not to do it. Peter looks into Laura’s eyes and kills her.

In the aftermath Derek goes with Deaton and Chris helps Peter take care of Laura’s body. They frame a dead Lahey for Kate’s death and tip off the Sheriff. They don’t talk much because neither knows where to start.

The wrap up involves Derek being unable to get along with Peter and leaving town for New York. Peter assumes control of Hale pack and relocates Cora and Isaac and himself into a new home since they are now able to access Hale pack accounts. Deaton is wary of Peter and Peter is wary of other alphas and packs as well as hunters. The only time he can truly relax is when he and Chris meet to do the treaty between Argents and the hunters who are in their guild and the Hale pack. They banter and seal the treaty with a handshake that develops into a kiss.

Epilogue:

Fast forward 5-6 years to the beginning of season 1 of the show

Scott and Stiles are walking through the woods on Hale property after recent attacks.

They see Derek Hale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started plotting and writing this story back in 2014 while my dad was in the hospital as a way to escape. Unfortunately, once he passed away, I had a hard time returning to this fic. I resolved that I'd close this off in some way in 2015 by either finishing it or posting the outline so if anyone was interested they wouldn't exactly be left hanging. I find myself unable to continue writing it, so please accept the outline instead.
> 
> My thanks to everyone who read, commented and left kudos. You helped me through a very difficult time, and I'm forever grateful for that.


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